


The Upsides and the Downsides

by Avery_Kedavra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Panic Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Confused Thomas Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Deceit Sanders-centric, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotionally Repressed, Emotions, Family, Feelings, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Insecurity, Insults, Logan Needs A Hug, Logic | Logan Sanders is Bad at Feelings, Love, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Panic Attacks, Pre-Episode: Dealing with INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, Protection, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Unsympathetic Deceit Sanders, Warning: Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 02:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21348787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra
Summary: After a huge argument between the Sides, Deceit decides he's tired of listening to their bickering. He gives each Side, barring Virgil, exactly what they want: Logan, a blanket over his emotions; Roman, an ego boost; and Patton, a way to be happy all the time.Things seem to work out at first, then the problems start to show. None of them act like...themselves. Only Virgil is the same as ever, and he has no idea what happened.It's up to Virgil to put the pieces together, confront Deceit, and convince his friends they can face their flaws. If he fails, he'll be stuck with flat cutouts of his friends--cutouts who treat Virgil like they treated Anxiety.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Deceit Sanders & Everyone, Deceit Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 79
Kudos: 594
Collections: Finished111





	1. The Argument

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Friends on the Other Side (Dark Sides AU Animation)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/532495) by Celestetcetera. 

It was complicated who started the argument. Look at it the right way, and it could have been anyone. In the end, it turned out to be everyone.

What started as a simple brainstorming session quickly got complicated. Thomas was acting like, well, Thomas, and didn't want to commit to anything.

"I don't see what's wrong with my ideas," Roman sighed after almost half an hour.

"Nothing's wrong with them," Thomas muttered unconvincingly.

"I could tell you what's wrong with them," Logan suggested.

"No." Thomas rubbed his eyes. "We talked about this. Be nice."

"I can be...nice and also be constructive."

"Oh, _constructive?_" Roman laughed. "I'll believe that when I see it, Super Quantum Unit Idiot Processor."__

_ _Logan adjusted his glasses. "Maybe you could wait for me to actually speak my suggestions? You are putting the figurative cart before the figurative horse."_ _

_ _"Fine," Roman grumbled. "How do I suck?"_ _

_ _"Your ideas would take too much work. We need a video by next month."_ _

_ _"Work is the whole point of _work!_"_ _

_ _"There is no time for some of these ideas."_ _

_ _Roman rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm sorry my ideas are too awesome for you to handle, Logan. I provide the ideas, _you_ handle the scheduling. If you can't make time for this, that's on _you_."_ _

_ _"I am not a Time Lord, I cannot manipulate the length of a day to include this kind of workload. We need something manageable."_ _

_ _"Good _ideas_ don't need to be manageable."_ _

_ _Thomas groaned. "Guys, guys, stop. You both have good points. I need a good idea that takes less time."_ _

_ _"So you're saying," Roman said, "that my ideas so far weren't good?"_ _

_ _"They were great, Roman, honestly." Thomas brushed his hair back. "They just need...to be...a little more achievable?"_ _

_ _"Exactly," Logan agreed. "We need to achieve success in a monetary sense, and pushing back the video date due to time would decrease our income--"_ _

_ _"That's not the point of videos--"_ _

_ _"--without money, Thomas will fail to live. That should probably be the point."_ _

_ _Thomas sighed. "_Guys..._"_ _

_ _"...you need to shut it," finished another voice. Virgil appeared in his customary spot under the stairs, glowering. "Please. Just shut up."_ _

_ _"Oh, look, more naysayers." Roman curled his lip. "Go say "neigh" somewhere else, Black Stallion."_ _

_ _"I can _hear_ you in my _room_ and it's making me _annoyed_."_ _

_ _Logan sighed. "I have attempted to keep it down. All blame must fall upon Roman here."_ _

_ _"Uh-huh. Sure." Roman examined his nails. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."_ _

_ _"I...do not sleep. I am incorporeal and do not need rest--"_ _

_ _"You are so humorless, you know that?"_ _

_ _Virgil covered his ears. "I thought we stopped this!"_ _

_ _"Me too," Thomas agreed. "Guys, didn't you agree to work together?"_ _

_ _"Easier said than done," Roman sighed. "Especially when Logan won't stop _shooting down my ideas_."___ _

_ _ _ _"It is not my fault Roman has such an adverse reaction to constructive feedback."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"It's not _my_ fault Logan's such a _buzzkill_\--"_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Shut _up_!" Virgil yelled. His voice was beginning to double._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Thomas sighed. "I'm getting Patton. Maybe he can talk some sense into you guys."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Patton rose in front of the curtains, his cat hoodie lopsided and his hair messy. "What's happening?"_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Logan and Roman continued arguing, ignoring Patton entirely._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"They're being idiots," Virgil growled._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Who's they?"_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Roman and Logan."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Oh, them again?" Patton rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, kiddos, I've been feeling kind of down and I'm not sure I can help much--"_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Virgil curled tighter into a ball. "Wonderful. Just when we needed him, Morality's got a stomach upset."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Actually, that makes sense," Thomas mused. "I got turned down by that guy I liked last week--Patton's bound to be feeling some effects of that."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Yeah, I _said_ that was a bad idea." Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Did you listen to me? Nooo."___ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I'm sure you can handle it," Patton said, trying to smile. "You just need to calm down and talk to each other politely."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Thomas eyed Roman's red face and Logan's cold eyes. "Simple."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Hey! Princey!" Virgil cupped his hands around his mouth. "You two shut up!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan eyed Virgil. "We are having a discussion."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"A stupid discussion."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman folded his arms. "Let's listen to Virgil."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Oh, so now that I've expressed disinterest in his words you're all for it?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Thomas held out his arms. "Whoa, whoa! Calm down! Let's be mature, okay?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton smiled. "Yes, lets practice some adultery here."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"It's not--" Logan sighed. "Okay, I will be mature. Roman, I maturely think you are naive."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Logan, I maturely think you're a _prick_."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Better a prick than a grandiose goose-chaser."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"At least I'm moving! At least I'm trying to _do_ something! You're just sitting around popping our beautiful balloons and raining on our balloon-filled parades!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan frowned. "I never understood the point of balloons anyway. It will pop in several days, what's the point in watching it slowly lose air and sink to the ground?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"The _point,_" Roman said, "is to have _fun_."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton bit his lip and stayed silent. Virgil pulled his hood even farther over his head._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Fun," Logan said with marked air quotes, "is not the point! Productivity is the point!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Maybe it is for you, Draco Malfoy, but creativity is more important than--than--"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"--than time?" Logan blinked. "Or were you going to say money?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I was going to say," Roman growled, "you. I am more important than you."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _There was a second of terrible silence._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"_Falsehood!_" Logan yelled. "You are always getting in Thomas' way! You are attempting to initiate a plan which would rob him of sleep and peace of mind, heightening his anxiety and decreasing his level of function. I know I am necessary, but you are relying on me to solve every problem _you_ cause! I cannot babysit all of you until you come to your senses! You need to take responsibility and stop posing _stupid_ ideas and ignoring the fact that they're _stupid_! You know they're stupid! Yet when I point this out, _I'm_ the bad guy? Falsehood."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman opened his mouth, then shut it again. Logan looked around at the stunned Sides and slowly sunk out, carefully smoothing his face to appear as if he didn't care what had happened. Patton looked about to cry. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and started counting under his breath._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I--" Roman looked around. "I'm going to go."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"You can't go!" Thomas pleaded. "We need to talk this out--"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman was gone before Thomas could finish his sentence._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton looked across at Virgil. "You okay, kiddo?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Yeah," Virgil mumbled. His voice still echoed. "I don't like arguments."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton fidgeted with his sleeves. "Thomas, kiddo, I should probably go find Roman and Logan. Better late than never to help things. Good luck." He sank, morosely waving goodbye._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Virgil?" Thomas asked. "What about you?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Not much I can do here," Virgil said. "Unless you want video ideas from me."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"You'll--you'll all be okay, right?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"We've fought before."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Like that?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Virgil picked at his sleeve. "Not like that."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Thomas stared at him. "You'll be okay?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I'm fine."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _The Side sank out of sight, and Thomas was standing alone in his living room, with no ideas and a sense that things had just gotten very, very bad._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-[]-[]-_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan sat in his room and tried to think through the last few minutes. How had things gone wrong so quickly? How had they slipped so far out of control? Yes, those words he had spoken were true, but they were said in a deliberately unhelpful way. Thomas must have been so confused. They still had no video ideas, and surely Roman would not be eager to cooperate after that outburst._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Someone knocked on Logan's door. "Logan?" Patton called. "Can I come in?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan grabbed a book drifting nearby and flipped it open to a random page. "Yes."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton tapped it open and sat next to Logan on the bed. "How are you?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I am adequate, you?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"That was...a lot, today."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"It may have come off more forcefully than I intended."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Is there anything you want to talk about?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan glanced up and looked at Patton--sweet, kind, lovable Patton, with a concerned smile on his face and that cat hoodie around his shoulders. Patton, who lived and breathed emotions. Patton, who would never understand what a mistake it had been for Logan to break._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"No, thank you for asking," he said. "I am fine."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton let out a small sigh, patting Logan on the shoulder before leaving. Logan tossed the book aside, where it flew into its spot on his floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Instead, he snapped his fingers and a notebook appeared in his palm. He snatched a pen from midair and began writing._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Facts:_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-I have intentionally provoked and argued with Creativity over a project._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-I have ignored reasonable outs from the conversation and drawn others into this feud._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-I have said inexcusable things in a harsh and detrimental tone._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-I have avoided consequences and not paid or tried to repair my actions._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _-I have lied to Patton._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Conclusion:_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _I cannot ever do this again._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"To quote Roman, easier said than done."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan snapped the notebook back out of existence and jumped to his feet. Deceit leaned against his bookshelves, paging through a volume on pattern recognition. "You wouldn't even know where to start."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Deceit." Logan balled his fists. "Why are you here? What do you want?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I want to assist in your noble quest to better yourself." Deceit slammed the book shut and smiled. "Wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have those petty emotional outbursts all the time?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I have no reason to listen to you. Leave my room immediately."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Oh, you can't make me leave," he said. "I would think one as smart as you would hear me out."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan walked to the door. "I'm leaving."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I can make them go away."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"What?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Deceit examined his gloves. "Those emotions that you hate so much. I could help you manage them. Like I've said, I can hide anything from Thomas as long as he doesn't want to know it. It's the same for Sides. You don't want these emotions, do you? All this anger and this fear? It would be a pity if you had more incidents like today."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan reached for the doorknob, and despite himself, didn't touch it._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"How would that work, exactly?" he asked._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"It's simpler than you'd think." _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _<><>()<><>_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman was deep in conversation with an imaginary Logan._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"You are always getting in Thomas' way," Logan said._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Shut up!" he said. "I hate you and your shoe's untied."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Logan looked down. "You're right! It is!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Yeah, and you're _how_ smart exactly?" Roman sighed and waved his hand, and imaginary Logan vanished into the mix of colors surrounding him, like a watercolor painting or a photo with blurred edges. He flopped back, and a bed appeared beneath him so he could dramatically fall upon it. This was rather pathetic, if he was honest with himself. If he couldn't think of a good comeback in the actual moment, what was the point of finding one afterward? Especially when, like today, all his creativity was gone. He couldn't even think of another insulting nickname for Logan._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Roman?" Patton called somewhere in the far reaches of his room._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Run along, Patton!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I thought I would--"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I'm fine! I have stuff to attend to. I'll see you later."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He conjured a pillow to cover his face with._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _This was a failed outing. The curtains had closed and Logan had been victorious. Because he was pushed to anger by Roman. Because Roman couldn't think of a good idea and lashed out._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _No. This was Logan's fault. He wished his mind would stop working against him._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman stared into the colors filling his room. Usually, their gentle undulation relaxed him, but today he longed for them to take some kind of solid form. They were too wishy-washy, too dreamy, too...Roman._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Then a spot of yellow bled through the wall, painting itself into a cloaked figure with a bowler hat and a snake face._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Deceit!" Roman summoned his sword and held it out. "Surrender, villain! You are trespassing!"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Yes, I'm not allowed in the Mind Palace. It's not like I'm part of Thomas' mind."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"This is my _room_."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I'm not interrupting anything important, am I? It looked like you were just feeling terrible over your interaction with Logan today."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman pointed his sword at Deceit and made himself stand taller. "That's ridiculous. It's none of your business."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"It is my business," Deceit complained. "I'm part of Thomas, which means I have to pay witness to all your insufferable sniping. So I thought I could come and help smooth the waters."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Roman kept his arms steady, but his hands started to shake._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _()()()()()_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton didn't go to his room. He sat in the center of the Mind Palace, wearing his cat onesie and eating cookies. He didn't technically need cookies to survive, but he wanted to feel a little better. First the rejection, and now this? His kiddos seemed so upset...and neither Logan nor Roman wanted to talk to him. Not like he could blame them. He should have stopped this before it got so bad. Logan was so...angry. Roman was so hateful. Virgil was so scared. And Patton had been too wrapped up in his own feelings to help._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He ate another cookie and curled on the couch, hugging his knees._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Patton?" asked a voice. At first he thought it was Virgil, but it wasn't._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Deceit? What are you--" Patton looked around and held out the cookie bowl. "Cookies? I made them myself."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Deceit stared at the cookie bowl. Finally, he took a cookie in one gloved hand and nibbled the edge. "This is disgusting."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Patton shrunk at the criticism before remembering Deceit's backward speak. "Glad you liked it! I would have shared it with the other kiddos but they're...not talking to me."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"I know," Deceit said, "and I want to help."_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _^^^^^_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _"Virgil," Deceit said. "That was certainly an interesting conversation, wasn't it? How do you feel?"_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Virgil summoned ropes from the corners of his room, snatching Deceit's arms and legs and catapulting him out the door. Then he sat in his room for two hours, his headphones over his ears but playing no music, his knees pulled up inside of his hoodie, trying to take up as little space as possible, hoping everything would be okay--would be better--wouldn't be this terrible--wouldn't be falling apart--that someone would fix everything and Virgil wouldn't be sitting alone._ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Virgil's Room

Virgil’s biggest mistake was when he hid in his room, because the others came to get him, and the others aren’t allowed in his room.

He isn’t sure who that’s for—their safety or his. Maybe both.

Virgil’s room is built from fear. He’s seen how the others act when they stay there for too long. They don’t know how to handle the sudden stress like Virgil does. They all lash out or break down or both. Virgil’s had enough practice to keep it all in, although sometimes he does a bit of the former. Lashing out was a coping mechanism back when the others deserved it.

He doesn’t think they ever deserved it, not really, but he was the bad guy back then.

Maybe he’s still the bad guy.

His room definitely says he’s the bad guy.

Part of Virgil hates his room. He hates the spiderwebs he hung on the walls as a Dark Side and the backwards clock that won’t give him the real time and the cloaking darkness that presses into his lungs every time he enters. Part of Virgil wants to open some windows, though there aren’t any, and air it out a bit until the dust settles and things seem more normal.

But he’s Anxiety, and a place built just for him feels oddly comforting. He doesn’t need to hide his emotions or his “angst” in his room. He can just be himself.

He can hide.

He can wait until it’s safer.

He waited all night. It’s always nighttime in Virgil’s room, but he can feel when Thomas wakes up. Like a little tingly sensation in his chest. Virgil sits in the dark for hours and waits for that feeling. It’s his wake-up call, though he never sleeps as some of the other Sides do. It’s his cue to put everything behind him and do his job.

He waits to be needed again.

But it wasn’t Thomas who called him first.

It was Patton.

Patton, who rose in the corner during one of Virgil’s favorite songs. Virgil scrambled to his feet and just stopped himself from yelling. He would have gotten a heart attack if he actually had a heart.

“Pat!” Virgil brushed himself off. “You…need something?”

“Nah, kiddo. I just wanted to invite you to breakfast!”

Patton’s smile was huge—Virgil thought it would give him sunburn. “Breakfast.”

“Roman conjured some ingredients for me and I made pancakes.” Patton clapped his hands. “I think we all need a good meal after yesterday.”

Yesterday. Virgil played with the edge of his hoodie. “Nobody’s mad?”

“Everything’s a-okay, kiddo.”

Patton’s upbeat attitude did seem to indicate a decrease in tension. Virgil bit his lip. He didn’t usually do these kinds of social arrangements…but if everyone was going to be there, and if he didn’t have to stay long…

Patton mistook Virgil’s hesitation for annoyance. “Sorry to bother you, kiddo,” he said, not sounding too sorry, “but I think it’ll be fun! I made blueberry pancakes for you specially.”

Virgil did like blueberry pancakes, though he couldn’t remember telling Patton that. “I…I guess. Sure.”

“Yes!” Patton grabbed his hand without asking. Virgil winced and slid out of Patton’s grip. “Patton. Don’t—”

Patton barely seemed to notice Virgil’s discomfort. “This is going to be awesome! Let’s go!”

Despite himself, Virgil smiled, just a bit. Patton’s enthusiasm was infectious. He sunk through the floor of his room and swam into the Mind Palace, which took shape around him. As usual for a Dark Side, he appeared on the couch with no warning. Roman jumped slightly before his face relaxed into a grin.

“Our favorite Grumpy Bear is here!” Roman poured too much syrup on his pancakes. “Welcome to the real world, Anxiety.”

Logan nodded over a perfectly aligned stack of pancakes.

“Take a seat!” Patton pulled out a chair. Virgil sat awkwardly on the edge, and Patton plopped a pile of pancakes on his plate. Virgil didn’t need to eat anything, since he was incorporeal, but the pancakes smelled delicious. He drowned the top in yogurt and started digging in.

“This.” Roman closed his eyes. “This is heavenly. A meal fit for a prince.”

“I do not quite understand the reasoning behind this,” Logan admitted. “I require no sustenance.”

“Just eat the pancakes,” Virgil advised. “He won’t be happy ‘til you do.”

“I’m already happy you’re here,” Patton said. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t eat my pancakes.”

Roman laughed. “Logic, how could you say no to this?”

“Easily.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “It is a two-letter word comprised of simple oral sounds.”

Virgil snickered into his pancakes where nobody could hear him. He had made it through three or four already. Roman had polished off his, and Patton tossed him a fresh plate, which he attacked with renewed vigor.

“This is great,” Patton said, beaming. “See, we’re all getting along. No fights!”

Roman slowly looked up from his pancakes.

Virgil winced. “You jinxed it, Patton. You made it weird.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see how this could be considered ‘weird.’” Logan sliced a bit of pancake off the stack and examined it. “He is merely referencing a previous event we were all privy to.”

“But…it wasn’t a…a good event.”

“Some of us did make mistakes,” Roman grumbled.

“Who?” Logan asked. “Who do you refer to?”

“More pancakes?” Patton looked between the pair.

“Yes please!” Roman squealed, his anger immediately forgotten. Virgil always hated it when Patton made them avoid arguments, but this time he was relieved. If Roman and Logan could pretend like nothing happened, he would be fine with that.

Unfortunately, Logan coughed and said, “No, Morality, I think there are some things we need to discuss.”

Patton tilted his head. “Discuss? Like a discus?”

“A what?”

“A discus. A fancy frisbee.”

“That is not what a discus is.”

“Wow, I can’t believe your disgust here.” Patton shrugged. “I think I can discuss discuses without disgrace.”

Logan sighed. “Please stop with the silly puns and listen to me. Roman and I have some things to say.”

Roman mumbled something through a mouthful of pancake. He swallowed and said, “I suppose. You first.”

“Your support is noted, though I would have proceeded without it.” Logan folded his hands. “Yesterday’s incident was highly unproductive and unhelpful. I would like to state that I will attempt, to the best of my ability, to remedy those actions. Such an occurrence shall not happen again.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “…and?”

“I know not what you are specifically referring to, but I believe you would like an apology for my harshly worded soliloquy?”

“That’s the one.”

“Then, if it comforts you—” Logan’s face pinched. “I am…sorry.”

Virgil was used to spotting liars, and he could tell Logan wasn’t sorry. Roman could probably tell, too, being the actor of the group. Still, he let it slide. “I accept your apology,” Roman said.

Patton clapped his hands. “Yay! We’re all friends again!”

“Hold off the parade,” Virgil reminded him. “It’s Roman’s turn.”

Roman wiped away part of his syrup mustache. “What should I say?”

“Well, that you’re sorry, too.” Patton tilted his head. “Are you, kiddo?”

“Of course,” Roman said. He was a better actor than Roman, but Virgil could still hear the lie. “Let’s do better in the future, okay?”

“That would be optimal.” Logan adjusted his tie and stood up. “Patton, I am afraid I must depart. Thomas will wake soon and your pancakes are very low on my list of priorities.”

Patton didn’t even flinch. “See you, Logan!”

Logan nodded before sinking out, already muttering schedules to himself.

A belch came from Roman’s side of the table. Roman rubbed his mouth. “Ah, that was a large one.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Virgil said.

“Not yet!” Patton jumped up. “Do you want to watch Toy Story with me?”

Virgil knew what “watching Toy Story” meant. Patton and the others had seen Toy Story about twenty times at this point. It wasn’t about the movie, it was about curling up on the couch together and making fun of the older animation, with Roman offended at every little comment. It was about Patton quoting half the lines and Roman quoting the other half, and Logan offering information about the production and computer software. It was about Patton in his cat onesie and Logan in that unicorn onesie of his, if he was feeling good. It was about them, all four of them, doing something together.

Although he wouldn’t be caught dead saying it, Virgil liked watching Toy Story.

“No,” Roman sighed. “I’ve seen that too many times. I have to let my creative juices flow if I want to give Thomas good ideas today.”

You’ve done it now, Virgil thought. You don’t just turn down Toy Story--

Patton shrugged. “Okay!”

What?

Roman looked equally surprised, but rather gratified. “Have fun, Patton. You can speak to me later if you wish.”

The prince sunk out, leaving Virgil sitting alone at the table.

“Clear your place, kiddo,” Patton said cheerily. He snapped and all the dishes and leftover pancakes vanished. “You want to watch Toy Story with me?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean…I don’t have anything else to do…”

“Great!”

They watched Toy Story together. It was the first time Virgil saw it with no interruptions or anecdotes. It was the first time Patton didn’t cry.

^^^^^

That day was uneventful. Roman gave Thomas a few ideas for future videos, Logan stopped him from watching Parks and Rec _all_ day, and Patton got him to pet a puppy. Virgil mainly stayed in the background, sending a few jolts Thomas’ way whenever the guy crossed a street or talked to someone new.

Thomas got things done and had a fun time. Things looked up.

He called for his sides after dinner.

“Guys?” he asked. Patton appeared first, sporting his cat onesie. Logan followed with his usual shirt and tie. Virgil popped into place on the stairs.

“Where’s Princey?” he asked.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Is it necessary to have him here?”

“Yes,” Thomas argued. “I want to talk to all of you.”

“Oh, fine.” Logan waved his hand. “Come along, Roman. Let us talk.”

Finally Roman rose. “Fine, I’m here, peasants. Now let’s get on with it—I have important things to attend to.”

Thomas rubbed the back of his head and Virgil could feel his…well, anxiety. He tried to ease up, but he was nervous. Was this another talk-it-out session like Patton had tried this morning?

“I have an audition tomorrow, and I—”

Oh. Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked. “The audition is so exciting!”

“It is a wonderful opportunity to grow your career,” Logan added.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just—” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Guess what.”

Roman groaned. “Is Dr. Doom over there getting to you again? It’s going to be fantastic. I mean, I couldn’t steer you wrong.”

Virgil shrugged. “You’ve made mistakes before.”

“You wish.”

“Guys, I know.” Thomas held out his hands. “I feel really excited and confident about this, and I know logically I’ll do fine, but now my anxiety is telling me I _never_ feel confident and something’s wrong.”

“Oh.” Virgil shrugged. “It does seem weird.”

“It seems _good_,” Roman corrected. “This is a good thing. Stop ruining it, Anxiety.”

“Now, now, be nice.” Patton waved his finger at Roman. “Virgil is just nervous about this big day.”

“But that’s the thing,” Thomas argued. “I’m not nervous about that. I just feel like something is off.”

Logan blinked. “Could you be a little more specific?”

“Something. Something is off.”

“What?”

Thomas sighed. “Something!”

“I hate it when you’re just vague,” Logan snapped. “Please elaborate on your feelings or I will be forced to retire until logic enters the conversation once again.”

“I dunno,” Virgil responded. “Everything _seems_ fine, it’s just…everything’s…off.”

“Off?” Patton blinked, still smiling. “What do you mean, kiddo?”

“I think I’m just…unnerved after the argument.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” Roman puffed out his chest. “Everything is going splendidly. You’re just paranoid.”

Patton blinked. Logan looked around. “To the best of my knowledge, we do not refer to—”

“It’s fine.” Virgil shrugged. “I am being paranoid.”

“You are,” Roman agreed. “Like I said. Stop worrying over nothing and enjoy the good stuff that’s happening! I’m even more amazing than usual today.”  
“Productivity is at an all-time high,” Logan said. “Thomas has actually managed to do an amount of work.”

“Everything is awesome!” Patton squealed.

“I did like that movie,” Roman said. “A story about a man breaking free of conformity and becoming the Chosen One, even when beset upon by rules and limitations? I have to relate.”

Virgil frowned. “I thought the ending meant—”

“Ah-buh-buh-buh-buh!” Roman made shushing noises. “No one wants your opinion, Anxiety.”

Thomas looked around. “I guess I am just being…paranoid. I should calm down.”

Logan nodded. “That would be the ideal solution. If Anxiety promises to relinquish his hold on you, I think things would be better for everyone.”

“Well?” Patton stuck out his lip. “Virge, kiddo, can you relax? For us?”

“Yeah, okay.” Virgil played with his sleeves. “Your audition will be great. Everything is…awesome.”

“Wonderful.” Roman sunk out, raising his hand in the air. “Farewell, peons!”

“Bye!” Patton beamed and sunk out as well, pulling his hoodie over his head. Logan vanished soon after. Thomas gave Virgil an insincere smile. “You okay, Virge?”

“Yeah.” Virgil nodded. “I’m gonna…go.”

“See ya!”

Virgil sunk down. Even though he’d promised, it took all his energy not to send his nervousness to Thomas. That fight yesterday had really messed with him. Even though everyone seemed fine, he knew a blowup could happen at any moment. Nowhere was really safe. Everywhere felt just a bit wrong.

Virgil went to his room. Everything was very wrong there, but at least it was out in the open.


	3. The Commons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some angst, self-doubt, emotional abuse, and a panic attack in this chapter. Stay safe out there! If you don't wanna read, summary: Roman isn't very nice after Deceit has...well, that's a story for a little later.

The Sides always agreed to spend at least half their time in the commons. Staying in their rooms for too long was detrimental, Logan would say. You got your best ideas from around other people, Roman would say. I miss you, Patton would say. So whenever they could, whenever time and energy allowed, they would sit in the commons and do whatever they wanted. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would play a game, but sometimes they would just bask in each other's company.

The novelty of being a part of this never wore off for Virgil. He loved staying in his room and feeling safe, but he didn't want to let his friends down. (His _friends._ He had friends. The novelty of that never wore off, either.) So in the afternoon and evening, he'd come downstairs and listen to his music or watch a movie with the rest of them. Even if nobody talked to him, they all acknowledged him. Logan would look up from his book and nod, Roman would flash a blinding smile, and Patton would hug-tackle him when he least expected it. Those were their own ways of saying that Virgil was liked. FamILY. Loved.

He loved this family.

Today there was something wrong with it.

Although Thomas had reassured him that morning, the anxiety never went away. It felt like the Upside-Down or the world through the door in Coraline, references he was sure Princey would love to turn into insults. Every movement, every word, every action he saw felt just the littlest bit off. Like when Deceit posed as Patton. Virgil knew his dad, and his dad didn't talk like that. His dad didn't do any of those things. But he waited for the others to figure it out, too, and that almost cost him everything.

Virgil looked around at the commons. Roman was flipping through movie channels to try and find some Disney. Logan was reading another book. Patton was baking muffins.

It all seemed normal. But one of them would shift or glance over or do _something_, and the Uncanny Valley struck Virgil with full force.

He was just being...overly concerned. Everything was fine. Everything had to be fine.

But it was his job to be concerned, so he watched.

He watched Roman find his Disney show, and not ask the others if they'd like to join him.

He watched Logan read his book with no glances upward, even when the smell of baking muffins filled the commons.

He watched Patton giggle as a bit of sugar got on his nose.

"Guys?" he asked, his throat raw. Patton looked over with a smile. "Hey, kiddo!"

"Hey." Virgil looked at the others. Logan glanced up at Virgil before returning to his book. Roman didn't even turn in his direction. Only Patton seemed normal, washing his hands and pulling the muffins from the oven. "Want a muffin?" he offered.

Virgil took the muffin, even though he didn't like to eat in the afternoon. Roman took three or four. Logan took none.

"Logan..." Patton made a comical pout before giggling again. "Don'tcha want a muffin?"

"I do not, in fact, want a muffin. It will get crumbs on my book."

"Pweeeeassee?"

Logan glanced up at Patton. "Please do not employ such cheap tactics, Morality. I have made my decision and I will stick to it."

"Awww," Patton said with no real sadness. "Guess there's more for us!"

"More for me, you mean," Roman said, slicing a muffin with his sword. Virgil nibbled his own muffin. It was great, as usual.

"Why don't--" he started to suggest. No one looked up, except for Patton again. Virgil worked up his courage and continued. "Why don't you put Crofters in Logan's? He'll eat that."

Patton smiled. "He probably will, kiddo. Good idea!"

"Why--" Logan adjusted his glasses. "Why would the addition of a certain jelly spread change my mind?"

"Because you're obsessed with it," Roman called from the couch. "Honestly, it's kind of weird. The only person you should be obsessed with is me."

"Not likely," Logan muttered.

"I heard that."

Patton tossed a jar of Logansberry to Logan, who caught it out of habit. He turned the jar over. "What do I do with this?"

"Eat it?" Patton snuck a muffin off his own tray and began to eat. "I think that's what you usually do with jam, Logan."

Logan looked around. "Is this some strange hazing ritual? I said I do not wish to eat muffins, or anything, at this time."

Virgil frowned. "Not even Crofters? Once I caught you eating Crofters at three in the morning."

"Three in the _morning_?" Roman yelled. "Logan, you have a problem."

"I do not have a problem. Nothing is a problem," Logan replied stiffly. He stood for the first time, marking his page in the book. "Patton, do you wish for your jar of Crofters back?"

Patton blinked. "Um...okay, but why...?"

"I do not understand why everyone is creating a fuss over this jam." Logan walked past the others towards his room. "It's just a fruit spread. It's probably not the healthiest for me, either."

"Whoa." Virgil stood up and followed Logan. "You don't usually act like this." He chewed his lip. "Lo...are you, you know, okay?"

Logan blinked. "I...yes, I am adequate, Anxiety. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're being weird." Virgil clenched his fist. Logan was staring at him with confusion and he felt panic squirm up inside of him. He was being paranoid--why was he saying all this--he should just leave Logan alone, it was clear the guy didn't want to talk to him--

"All of you," he forced out. "All of you are acting weird. Did--did something happen?"

And for a second, he saw panic flit over Roman's face, Patton's smile falter, and Logan's teeth clench.

Then Roman laughed, Patton smiled, and Logan shook his head.

"Nothing's wrong, Anxiety." Roman tossed his hair back. "I feel great."

"Me too, kiddo." Patton walked over and gave him a squeeze. "Don't worry."

"I, too, am at my normal levels of functioning," Logan added. "I do not know about the others, though. I have also noticed...irregularities."

Virgil looked at him with new hope. "Really?"

"Yes." Logan brushed off his shirt. "Roman has been extremely cruel to you for no given reason, and Patton has not commented on this."

"Cruel?" Roman raised an eyebrow, finally standing up. "I'm sorry, didn't realize joking around was considered 'cruel' now. Anxiety's good with it, right?"

Patton looked between them. "He hasn't said anything, so I think he understands."

Yeah. That was how it worked.

Logan pressed his lips together. "Although I hardly wish to dwell in your feelings, Anxiety, I do think the others are rather tired and snappish. This does not mean, however, that you should keep Thomas anxious due to these concerns. You have a responsibility and you are denying it."

"I--" Virgil shrunk into his jacket. He hadn't made Thomas anxious...right? Thomas was on edge, but Virgil had pulled back. He thought he had. Maybe he'd messed up, maybe he'd slipped and given Thomas an anxiety attack and here he was again, doubting himself when he knew nothing of the sort had happened. It could happen, he knew that. He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Thank you, Anxiety." Logan looked at the others. Patton beamed and Roman nodded, saying "Glad you saw sense, Anxiety."

Anger flared up inside of Virgil. He didn't know why they kept calling him that. He didn't know anything, but he knew something was still wrong and they were acting weird and had he done something wrong without remembering? They hated him again, they wanted to kick him out. They were hypocrites and they promised he was family and now--now they wouldn't even listen.

"My name is _Virgil!_" he yelled.

Logan didn't even react. Patton was eating a muffin and barely paying attention. Only Roman zeroed in on him, stalking over and staring into his face.

"I know," he said.

"Then why are you--"

"Because you're Anxiety. I don't get why you're so offended."

Virgil balled his fists. "I--I just want--nobody's listening and I--"

"Nobody's listening, because you're being stupid." Roman gave his trademark glittering smile, but it had no warmth. "Nobody wants to listen to you when you act this way. Go calm down and be a big kid, okay?"

That stung. Virgil tried to hide his hurt. "Stop."

"Make me." Roman examined his fingernails. "Oh right, you can't."

"Stop!" Virgil backed up despite himself. He glanced around for support. Patton looked up from his muffin, shrugged, and went back to smiling and eating. Logan stood in the doorway, showing no inclination to help.

"Stop!" he screamed again. His voice was starting to double. "What did I do? What did you do? Are you all Deceit in disguise or something?"

That got everyone's attention. Patton almost choked on his muffin. Logan coughed loudly and rubbed his face. Roman's eyes widened and it was that panic again, the one he didn't understand.

"No, I'm not _Deceit_," Roman said, trying to laugh. "None of the others are, either. Right?"

Patton and Logan nodded.

"That's what he would say," Virgil argued.

"Admit it, okay?" Roman gave Virgil an almost pitying look. "Just because we don't like you doesn't mean it's Deceit's fault. That snake isn't behind everything."

"You--" Virgil felt a piece of him crack off. "You don't like me?"

"I love ya, kiddo," Patton reassured him from across the room. "You should smile more, but you're still my dark strange son."

"You are a satisfying business partner. You do your job well." Logan glanced away. "Perhaps too well, sometimes. You can be highly unreasonable."

"You--" Roman spread his hands. "--are funny, sometimes. But you always get in the way. You need to let the important sides take the wheel and know when you're wanted, all right?"

Virgil breathed in and out. This felt like a bad dream, the ones he conjured up on his worst days. The ones where he convinced himself they hated him. Or the ones Deceit left for him, surrounded by people who turned their backs and laughed. Deceit did a good Patton, an okay Logic, and he killed as Roman. Virgil knew not to buy it half the time, but it always hurt, still.

"You're not...Deceit?" he asked, still hoping this was a trick.

"No." Roman patted Virgil on the shoulder. "Don't worry your little head about it, Anxiety. This isn't Deceit's doing. We make our own choices around here."

Virgil shoved Roman away, and his voice doubled again. "Don't _touch_ me!"

"Can't you be normal for a few seconds?" Roman rolled his eyes. "Honestly."

Virgil glared at the side. He felt power thrum beneath his fingertips, and he knew if he let it out he could overwhelm them all. But he was still a coward. He didn't want to hurt any of them, not even Roman.

Roman, who saw Virgil's fists clench and reached for his sword.

He reached for his _sword._

Like Virgil--like Anxiety was dangerous and had to be slain. Another monster, just like when they were kids. Anxiety had felt that blade before. Incorporeal, intangible, but so painful. That sword made him the bad guy.

Anxiety felt the room close in around him. Too many faces, too many eyes staring at him, too much wrong all over and what was _happening_ how could he not have seen this coming? He spent so much time planning for worst-case scenarios but he really thought they were doing better, he was famILY, and now here he was trembling all over in his hoodie, with an angry prince and an unconcerned Dad and a Logic who fell as he shoved his way out the door.

Out the door, down the hall, into his room and hide in the shadows, try to keep breathing and stop breathing there's too much air and yet he can't get enough...

He is drowning

in

everything...

He thought things would get better.

He thought he was better but he's gotten worse.

Anxiety is scared. Anxiety is terrified.

Everything is wrong and Anxiety is...

Virgil. Virgil is.

They may have taken his name back, but he can't forget it if he says it enough.

Virgil. Virgil. Virgil.

He is Virgil and he is the protector.

Whatever is happening, he will protect them, no matter what.

(Smile more. Highly unreasonable. Get in the way.)

He needs to breathe...

He can't do this.

He has to--something is wrong, with him, with all of them, like a nightmare coming to swallow him whole.

He will fix this.

He will protect them.

They will hurt him, yes. They already did. They kicked him in the chest and watched him bleed. But who cares, when they might be hurting? Virgil isn't the one who matters here.

He needs to talk to...Thomas.

Thomas knows what--what to do.

Virgil needs to do something about this or he might actually die.

This was just one afternoon, not even as bad as it got when they were younger. But he was loved, and these days were so much better, and he was famILY, and now he knows what that felt like, only to have it ripped away.

Thomas will be nervous by now. Thomas will have some idea what happened, at least, or that something happened. Maybe Thomas won't hate him, although he doubts that. If all goes wrong, he can make Thomas listen.

He can be the bad guy if it means helping his friends.

They may hate him but he doesn't hate them. Deceit would say that makes Virgil weak. Maybe it does, but protection is all he has left to give.


	4. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to get this out on a Wednesday as opposed to the usual Thursday, so I won't have to bang out a chapter on Thanksgiving. Have a great Thanksgiving, kiddos! I'm thankful for this community and the wonderful response I've gotten from you all so far, despite being a new writer. Wishing you luck over the holidays!
> 
> Chapter warning: some angst and self-deprecation, anxiety.

Thomas Sanders stared at his computer screen, which was playing The Office bloopers. He barely laughed, but not because he had seen these same bloopers more than fifteen times. Virgil could sense the man's panic and confusion. It was barely contained. A stab of regret hit Virgil as he watched his host struggle to focus on the screen. This was his fault. He should have controlled himself instead of giving his anxiety to Thomas. Though he guessed that was his job, it still hurt.

Thomas groaned and slammed the computer, massaging his head and closing his eyes.

"Thomas?"

Virgil's voice cracked, and he cursed himself for sounding so weak. Thomas jolted upright and looked at Virgil.

"Virge! Buddy!" Thomas's smile lit Virgil up from inside. "How are you?"

"How are _you?_" Virgil fired back with a smirk.

"Not good, I'm really...anxious..." Thomas blinked and groaned. "Right. You're not doing so hot, then? Any reason why? Can I help?"

After the incident that afternoon, Virgil wanted to hug the man. Thomas was so nice. Even with his sides messed up he still treated Virgil like a friend.

Virgil resisted the urge to bite his nails. "Um...I need to talk to you."

"Okay, sure!" Thomas looked surprised but led his side to the couch. "Sit?"

Virgil collapsed onto the couch, his knees growing weak. Thomas handed him a blanket, and he gladly wrapped himself until he resembled an anxious burrito. Thomas watched Virgil curl tightly into a fluffy ball and concern grew on his face.

"So...you want to talk?" Thomas asked.

Something lodged in Virgil's throat. He nodded rapidly, keeping his mouth shut.

"I...I can get you some hot chocolate," Thomas offered, standing up. "It's from a mix, but it might make you feel better."

Virgil nodded again.

Thomas stood up, bustling around the kitchen and preparing the hot chocolate. Virgil listened to the clink of mugs and squirmed into the crook of the couch, feeling warmer than he ever had in his life. Soon Thomas returned with the hot chocolate and placed it in Virgil's hands. The mug was a Santa mug that encouraged him to "Stay Jolly!" Perhaps reading his expression, Thomas looked sheepish. "Only one I had."

The hot chocolate quickly warmed his hands. Virgil cautiously sipped a bit and felt the sweet, hot liquid travel through him. He took another sip. Hot chocolate always made him feel better--how had Thomas known that? Well, they were the same person, technically, but Virgil knew each side had different preferences. Logan's obsession with Crofters, for instance. Although that seemed to be a thing of the past.

Virgil almost choked on his hot chocolate as the memories of the argument rushed back to him. He coughed a few times before setting the mug down and tugging his hood over his face, trying to breathe.

"You okay? Virgil?" Thomas asked. His voice sounded concerned. "Talk to me, okay?"

"I--" Virgil squeezed his knees. "Give me...a minute."

"Okay. Okay." Thomas shifted on the couch. "Do you want to watch a movie? Listen to music? I don't know, I know you usually listen to music when you're anxious...I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions. Should we do some breathing exercises? You like 4-7-8, right?" He sighed and placed his hand on Virgil's back. "Just...I'm here, okay, buddy? You've got all the time in the world."

Virgil flinched slightly at the touch, but the weight of Thomas's hand was comforting. He took a deep breath, then another and another. Everything was okay, just for a bit. Thomas didn't hate him. He was worried about him. He was trying to help.

The exhaustion and emotion of the day caught up to Virgil, and he pulled Thomas into a hug, sobbing into the man's shoulder.

Thomas stiffened, and Virgil immediately regretted his decision. Then Thomas wrapped his arms around the hoodie-clad side and hugged back.

"It's okay, Virge," Thomas whispered. "It's okay."

Virgil sobbed harder, curling into the warmth of his host, knowing he was acting weak and stupid but too upset to care. Thomas held him for a long, long time, until Virgil finally hiccupped into silence. He pushed himself away from Thomas and curled up in the blankets again, staring at the blank television and wishing he could stay here forever, warm and safe.

"What was that about?" Thomas asked quietly.

"You're--" Virgil felt tears welling up again and wiped his eyes harshly. "You don't hate me."

"Of course I don't, Virge. I love you." Thomas looked at Virgil's upset face. "Why would you think I wouldn't?"

"All the others--they all hate me." Virgil pulled his knees to his chest.

"Aww, I'm sure they don't."

"They _said_ so. Roman said so."

"Oh." Thomas reached out and squeezed Virgil's shoulder. "I'm sure he didn't mean it, buddy. Sometimes Roman says things without thinking. That's just how he is. I bet he's sorry."

Virgil shook his head. "It wasn't like that. Like the arguments we always have. This was different."

Thomas pulled Virgil closer. "Tell me about it."

"It was like--" Virgil searched for the words. "You remember when Deceit posed as Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"It was like that. They were just acting wrong, like they were off or something. And I asked them about it, and--and--"

He felt himself choke up again. Thomas rubbed his shoulder. "Keep going, Virge."

"And Roman snapped at me. He told me to be a big kid and I should know when I was wanted and nobody needed to listen to me. And Patton just let it happen, and so did Logan, and they all kept calling me Anxiety like they don't know my actual name and they said I needed to be better and they hate me and I know I messed it up somehow but I don't know what I did because they won't tell me and--"

Thomas clucked his tongue. "Virgil. Breathe."

Virgil took a deep breath and his heartbeat slowed.

"I'm so sorry, Virgil," Thomas said. "That doesn't sound like them at all."

Virgil looked at Thomas with new hope. "You mean I'm not crazy? There is something wrong?"

"I don't know how the mind works, but it seems like something has happened." Thomas rubbed his head. "I've gotten a bit of a headache lately, maybe that has to do with it? Something's definitely up."

"Yeah." Virgil couldn't describe how good it felt to have someone listen. "Thank you."

"Maybe we should ask the others what happened? They might be in too much of a state to listen to you, but maybe they'll listen to me."

Virgil froze, remembering Roman's cutting stare. "I--I don't know--"

"If they try to hurt you," Thomas promised, "I'll stop them. I'm on your side, okay?"

Virgil nodded. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Then...okay."

Thomas closed his eyes and summoned the other sides.

Logan appeared first, holding an encyclopedia he was paging through. Patton popped up in his cat onesie. Roman rose with a smile. All three greeted Thomas. Logan and Patton greeted Virgil as well, albeit as Anxiety. Roman acted as though Virgil wasn't there.

"Hey, guys." Thomas squeezed Virgil's hand and stepped forward, placing himself in front of the terrified side. "I heard there was an incident earlier."

Logan nodded. "Yes."

Patton looked confused. "What kind of incident, kiddo?"

"An argument? Virgil is very upset about it."

Patton looked to Logan, who blinked. "Morality, do you really not recall? It happened just half an hour ago."

"I...but today's been such a great day." Patton tilted his head and looked, for the first time that day, something other than content. "I guess I must have missed it." Then his smile returned. "But everything's okay now, right?"

"No, everything's not." Thomas stared Patton down. "Virgil was crying earlier. You three really hurt him."

Virgil flushed and curled tighter in his hoodie. Why did Thomas have to say that?

"You were crying?" Logan asked. "I...that does not seem good."

"No, it's not." Patton reached for Virgil. "Any way I could cheer you up?"

Thomas looked at Patton in confusion. "Pat..."

"That's my name, don't wear it out!"

Thomas shook his head. "All three of you should apologize, at the very least, and I want an explanation for this behavior."

"I'm sorry!" Patton said brightly with no trace of remorse.

"I apologize if you were offended," Logan added, again with no sign of real emotion.

"Roman?" Thomas asked.

Roman folded his arms. "I'm not going to apologize just because Virgil went crying to you, okay?"

Thomas blinked. "_Roman! Pump the brakes!_"

"What? It's just the truth. Sorry if you can't handle it."

Thomas's face softened. "Roman...all of you. Are you guys okay? You're acting strangely. Are you upset?" He took a step forward. "I can help you. I want to. Can you talk to me?"

Only Thomas, Virgil thought, would respond to this situation by reaching out. Logan, Patton, and Roman looked like someone had struck them in the face. Patton curled into his onesie, Roman took a step back, and Logan sighed.

"Well, I suppose," Logan said, "the reason for our abnormal behavior lies in the deals they presumably made with a certain Deceit."

Patton blinked and giggled. "What?"

"As I was visited by Deceit after the argument, it seems only logical you two were also convinced by him to--"

"Whoa!" Roman held out his hands. "What gives, Mr. Peabody? Why are you telling him everything?"

"It seems unproductive to lie to Thomas," Logan responded. "There is no real reason for attempted secrecy about the--"

"Logan, kiddo," Patton said with a grin, "shut your everflapping gobstopper, okay?"

Thomas looked around the room. "What? What's this about Deceit?"

Virgil groaned as something clicked. "Of _course_ Deceit did something. He always does. He visited me after the argument."

"What did you do?" Thomas asked.

"I kicked him out immediately, duh." Virgil looked at his friends. "I have a feeling not all of them did that."

Thomas, for the first time, looked afraid. "Guys--"

"Logic's lying," Roman snapped from his corner. "He's just trying to wind you up."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "I am not. You seem to be the liar in this situation. In fact, I believe all three of us have participated in deceiving activities lately. You could very well call our actions lying to--"

"_Logic._." Roman clenched his fist. "If you say anything more, I will murder you with my beautifully manicured sword."

Logan adjusted his glasses. "Thomas, it appears I am being muzzled. If you wish to know more, ask Deceit."

"That's it!" Roman drew his sword. "Prepare for pain, Hal 9000."

"And that's my cue to leave," Logan said, hurriedly sinking down. Roman sunk down as well, glowering and still brandishing his sword.

"I'm...I'm gonna go check on the cookies I was baking." Patton waved with a cat paw before sinking out as well, leaving Thomas and Virgil standing alone in the center of the living room. Virgil's mind reeled. Something happened. An enchantment, perhaps? But why were Roman and Patton so averse to talking about it?

Thomas watched Virgil carefully. "Buddy, you okay?"

"No."

"Yeah, me either." Thomas sank to the ground, spreading his legs on the carpet. "That was a lot. A lot to take in."

"You're telling me?"

"Patton." Thomas shook his head, seemingly addressing himself more than Virgil. "Patton didn't even remember your fight? And Roman didn't apologize, and Logan didn't try to comfort you, and..."

"I know." Virgil sat on the floor next to Thomas, a surface he knew wasn't meant to be sat on. "Everything's upside down."

"Like Stranger Things! I should rewatch Stranger Things!"

"Not the time, Thomas."

"Right. Sorry."

Virgil closed his eyes and searched through the conversation. Logan told him to ask Deceit what had happened. Did he really want to face the slippery snake again? He'd barely recovered from the last video the double-dealing two-faced fraud had ruined.

But he had too many questions, and only one person could give him answers.

He needed to save his friends.

"Thomas..." Virgil said, summoning all his courage. "I need to talk to Deceit."

Deceit, who had made his friends turn on him. Deceit, who had shunted Virgil back into Anxiety's box. Deceit, who had jeopardized Thomas' safety.

Deceit, who had told Virgil long ago he only wanted to help.

"I don't think--"

He opened his eyes and glared at Thomas.

"_Now_."


	5. Along Came a Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, kiddos! Hope you're having a great day!
> 
> I'm halfway through this thing and having a lot of fun so far. Thanks for the encouragement--I don't respond to comments much due to my nervousness about social interactions. But I read every single one, and they make my fricking day.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around, and on with the show!

Thomas closed his eyes. "Deceit?"

Deceit appeared in Virgil's usual spot on the stairs. He was holding a plate and scrubbing it with a soapy sponge. The mere appearance of his snake-sided face and yellow accents made Virgil's heart beat faster. To cover for his nerves, he hissed loudly. Deceit looked up in surprise and seemed to realize where he was.

"Oh." Deceit tossed the plate aside. "Good _day_ to you, Thomas. You definitely weren't interrupting something."

Virgil almost laughed. "You really do use those gloves for cleaning?"

"No."

"Deceit." Thomas's hands shook with Virgil's anxiety. "We need to talk."

Deceit chuckled. "I have nothing to say to you."

"What happened to the others?" Virgil asked. "How do you reverse it? Why did you do it? Did you start washing dishes after I suggested it or--"

"Quiet, Virgil." Deceit didn't wave his hand, but Virgil still felt the command settle into him. His voice tapered away. "Of course I wish to answer every one of your questions, but I do _not_ need to process them first. It's not like it's helpful to go one at a time. You weren't very impatient when I knew you." He smiled. "Nothing has changed."

"Enough games." Virgil grabbed control of his vocal cords again. "Answer the questions, Deceit."

"You have to," Thomas added. "As your Host, I can know whatever information I need to know."

"Oh, did Virgil tell you that?" Deceit asked. "How quaint. Yes, Thomas, you can know whatever information you need, no matter if you're ready to hear it or if it betrays someone's trust. You are omniscient here. I mean, just look at all the secrets Virgil _hasn't_ kept from you--"

"Don't." Virgil glared at Deceit. "You're trying to trick me into giving up. It won't work. I need to know what you did."

"What did I do?"

"You did...something. To the others."

"I'm not confused. Please don't be more specific."

"It was something!"

"I love it when you're just vague." Deceit sighed dramatically. "Still, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Wait." Thomas frowned. "That means he does know what we're talking about?"

"I think," Virgil replied.

"Deceit, can you please tell us what happened?" Thomas asked. "I'd really appreciate knowing. I'm upset right now, and if I know this, things might get better."

Only Thomas could talk with such compassion and politeness to a "Dark Side". Maybe it was the knowledge of Virgil's past. Maybe he saw something in Deceit that Virgil didn't. Maybe he was just a nice guy at heart. How could anyone, hearing that tone, think Thomas was a bad guy? How could _Thomas_ think that?

Even Deceit seemed taken aback by the words. He blinked a few seconds before regaining his aloof demeanor.

"Yes, Thomas," he purred. "I was not aware you are upset. I'm _sure_ you won't be upset about hearing the truth. Maybe--and this is just a theory, I _don't_ think it might actually work--you should talk to Virgil. He isn't the one who is making you upset, correct? If he calms down, you will be upset."

Thomas stared at Deceit for a few seconds, muttering the words under his breath. Finally, it clicked. "You're saying I should just control Virgil's reaction? Not happening. His reaction is valid."

"His reaction is selfish." Deceit looked at Virgil, who crossed his arms and glowered. "Your friends are happy, Virgil. Why can't you just leave them be? Because they don't _like_ you anymore? You're not Anxiety, it's not like it's your _job_ to be the bad guy. Please don't look at the bigger picture and let their choices remain their choices. You're letting your selfish emotions and neediness get in the way of Thomas' happiness. Look at Thomas--he looks _ecstatic_, doesn't he? But he was fine earlier, until _you_ began to panic."

Virgil opened his mouth to snap back. Deceit was lying--his preferred name was _Deceit_, after all. But the lies had just enough truth to hit home. The others did seem happy. At least, they did when Virgil wasn't confronting them or irritating them. Which he did because...why? Because he didn't like them this way? Wasn't his job as a friend to let his friends make their own choices? If they were really happier this way, why should he get in the way of that because of _his_ problems and insecurities?

Thomas looked at Virgil. "Virge, don't listen to him. You have a right to be treated well."

Virgil stared back. Did he? He had been mean in the past, and he messed things up, and he used to be a fricking _Dark Side_. It was surprising the others forgave him in the first place. No wonder they'd regressed. Virgil deserved it.

"No." Thomas must have sensed Virgil's doubt, because he stepped forward and placed his hands on the side's shoulders. "Virgil. Don't _listen._"

"I'm sure you'll be able to talk him out of it," Deceit said, staring at his fingernails. "You are exceptionally good at disguising the truth."

Virgil gently pushed away from Thomas and tried to regain his voice. "Thanks for the sentiment," he finally said with a forced chuckle. "I wasn't planning on listening to the two-timing serpent anyway. The Bible taught me not to trust snakes."

"Oh, you can't trust me," Deceit agreed. "It's not like this whole thing is for your benefit, Virgil."

Thomas blinked. "What?"

"_What?_" Virgil repeated. "How on earth is making all my friends _hate_ me supposed to _help?_"

Deceit sighed. "The whole 'hating you' thing was absolutely part of the plan."

"Well, what _was_ the plan?"

"I'll be sure to tell you, since you asked so nicely."

Virgil wanted to scream.

"Deceit." Thomas's voice was surprisingly level, given the circumstances. Logan had posed the theory that whatever sides weren't present were more active in Thomas, which meant Logan, Patton, and Roman were helping him handle the situation. Virgil felt a small flush of relief that this, whatever it was, wasn't impacting their job performance. "Can you please tell me what happened? I have a right to know."

"Do you really want to know?" Deceit asked.

Thomas glanced at Virgil, then nodded.

"Well." Deceit tapped his fingers on his cloak, a surefire sign he was nervous. Virgil remembered all Deceit's tells from his days as a Dark Side, and he felt the old knowledge rise to the surface. It was important to work out how Deceit was feeling, because that enabled him to find a game plan and stop Deceit from getting too angry. Virgil shivered at the memory--every interaction was a minefield, especially when they were teens. Every little word had the potential to start a war. Virgil picked up many of his tip-toeing nervous habits from that.

"Well," Deceit repeated, "what I'm about to say, none of it happened."

This was Deceit's way of making the truth a lie--preface it with a statement that it was all false. Now he could speak freely. It was funny how Deceit's falsehoods frustrated the side almost as much as the others. 

"It started after that argument yesterday," he began.

"Right." Thomas nodded. "It was pretty rough."

"It was. I could feel the turmoil it caused, even though I'm one of the "Dark Sides", to use Roman's clever term. This wasn't the first time such a thing happened. Every time, it messes up the Mindscape. I was very tired of it. It was clear Thomas was suffering and your faults were hurting each other. Especially..." Deceit glanced at Virgil. "Especially Virgil."

"Why would you care?" Virgil blurted out. "You make me upset all the time."

"If you panic, Thomas panics." Deceit's eyes hardened. "Do you know how hard it is to do my job when Thomas is afraid of his own shadow? Lying is impossible when someone else is convinced it's the end of the world. Your panic made every argument a hundred times worse."

Virgil snorted, trying to ignore the small bit of himself that was disappointed. For a second, he thought Deceit was actually worried about him. But if he was, he wasn't talking.

"Go on," Thomas said.

"Right. Well, I decided to help the poor unfortunate souls and give them what would solve their problems. They already had the solutions in their heads, they just needed a bit of power behind it."

"Stop being so vague," Virgil complained.

"Shall I use smaller, simpler words for you to understand?" Deceit coughed and drew himself up. "I--helped--your--friends. Following so far?"

"Define _help._" Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Can you explain exactly what they wanted and exactly what you did?"

"You have no sense of drama or flowery language," Deceit complained. "Fine. All three of your little friends are disgustingly noble and self-deprecating at times, Virgil. You fit right in. I believe each one blamed themselves for yesterday's debacle."

That, admittedly, did sound like his friends.

"Patton." Deceit waved his hand, and suddenly he was a mirror image of Patton, pushing up his glasses and giving a condescending look. It seemed all wrong on Patton's round, freckled face. "Patton took your words to heart, Virgil. He thought he could have stopped the argument if he had been in a better mood."

"My words--?" Virgil began. Then he remembered.

_Great. The moment we need him, Morality has a stomach upset._

Guilt sprung up to his throat.

"So I gave happy pappy Patton what he asked for." Deceit clasped his hands together in a mocking gesture. "He wanted a way to be happier. So I made him all happy, all the time. Nothing can get him down now."

Virgil's mouth was dry. He glanced at Thomas, who had a stricken expression.

"Logan." Deceit tugged on his cardigan and he was Logan, brushing back his hair and attempting a serious face. "Logan, Logan, Logan. Logan _hated_ himself for lashing out at Roman. He's supposed to be a robot with no feelings, remember? So he traded away his feelings with me. Nice and neat and logical now, able to do his job without interruptions."

Virgil wanted to yell at Deceit to stop, to stop taking his friends' faces and twisting them around. But he could barely breathe, let alone speak up.

"And Roman." Deceit twirled into the creative side, red sash and all. The sight of Roman made Virgil's insides twist. "Our favorite prince didn't want to be hurt by Logan's so-mean words. He locked away all that shame and insecurity so he could run things his own way. Apparently, it made him a little insensitive."

"You." Virgil had never hated anyone so much in his life. "You locked away bits of them?"

A snap, and Deceit was back to normal. "They asked. If someone really wants to hide something from themselves, I can keep it hidden."

"You're a monster."

"You wouldn't think so if you'd gone with the plan." Deceit sighed in exasperation. "My final step was to help you with that anxiety of yours. Sadly, you failed to cooperate."

"Yeah, wonder why." Virgil clenched his fists. "I don't need you messing around in my head, and I don't want you messing around in theirs! Give them back their flaws or I swear I'll murder you."

"It's not my decision anymore, Virgil." Deceit smiled sweetly. "Unless they really want them back, those things are gone. My part to play is over, and I think I played it magnificently. No more silly arguments or debilitating emotions, Thomas. You've been fixed."

Thomas stared into the distance and seemed to shake himself. "This is all true?"

"None of it," Deceit agreed.

"Then...Virgil, what do you want to do?"

Virgil glared at Deceit. "I'll make them want their flaws back. And Deceit will have to give them back because that's how he works."

"Good luck," Deceit said. "I'm sure it'll be easy as pie. They're just dying to be weak and emotional again, right?"

"We're done here," Virgil growled. "Goodbye."

The yellow side waved before sinking out.

Thomas stumbled to a chair and sank into it. "Oh my god. That...that really happened, right? I'm not going insane."

"It really happened." Virgil expected to feel shaky, but all he felt was determination. "But I'm going to fix it, or at least make sure it doesn't need to be fixed."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm checking with the others. If they're happy, then I'll let Deceit keep things this way. If not?" Virgil shrugged. "Then I'll figure something else out."

"Virge..." Thomas gave a half-smile. "You got this. You're an amazing friend. I've got your back, buddy."

Virgil allowed himself a small smile back. This was his job, after all. He was the protector.

He waved goodbye and sunk out, ready to confront his friends.


	6. Patton Doesn't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is a day late. I have (gasp) a life, or something resembling it. But my homework is done now and you get some lovely sweet Patton angst, kiddos!
> 
> (Also, I don't know if any of you noticed, but I'm terrible at remembering to title these chapters. Shoot me a message/complaint/carrier pigeon if I forget to name one. Or commit some other unforgivable sin, such as making a grammatical error. I've got Grammarly and my own stickler tendencies, but we are all unfortunately human.)
> 
> Chapter Warning: Discussion of disassociative feelings and numbness.

Patton's door was always open. That was one of the few constants in the Mindscape. The fun-loving father figure figment wanted everyone to know they could always talk to him. Virgil himself had stumbled through that doorway on terrible nights and Patton had hugged him, and comforted him, and sat with him until morning. He'd seen Logan ranting to Patton about something he found infuriating until he calmed down. He'd even seen Roman in there once or twice, though he could never catch what it was about. Patton carried it all.

Maybe it was a mistake to think Patton could handle that on his own.

Now Patton's door was closed.

Virgil hadn't even known what it looked like, he realized. He knew now. It was light blue with glittery bubble letters spelling out MORALITY/PATTON'S ROOM. Beneath it said, COME ON IN, KIDDOS! All around the words were photos. Photos of Thomas as a kid. Photos of cats and dogs and other fluffy creatures. And photos of--was that _them?_

In one photo, Logan spooned Crofters from a jar while giving everyone a dirty look. In another, Roman pranced across the stage dressed as Hamlet. In a third, Virgil--oh god, Virgil was in a photo, who took that--Virgil was curled up with his headphones on, smiling at someone. It wasn't a big smile, but it was a smile.

And there were photos of them together. Of them cooking breakfast for Patton's birthday. Of them fighting over the remote. Of them just sitting in the Common room, being friends.

It made the ache in Virgil's chest grow even tighter and warmer. He couldn't do this. He couldn't--Patton was happy and he couldn't--how was he supposed to fix this?

He had to do this. No one else could.

Virgil reached out and knocked on the door. Just once. Maybe that was too few, or was it the right amount? He hoped it didn't seem weird he was knocking instead of obeying the glitter sign and coming in. Obeying signs in glitter was not something Virgil usually did. He'd been around Roman too much to trust them.

_Roman._

Before his thoughts could spiral again, Patton opened the door. He gave Virgil a huge smile. "Kiddo! How are you?"

"I'm good." He stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt. "I actually wanted to talk...to you?"

Something in Patton's smile wavered, but only for a second. "Sure!" he said, pulling the door open. "C'mon in, kiddo!"

"Actually..." Virgil stared into Patton's room. Patton had to force his room not to reject or change the others whenever he helped them. It took a lot of mental energy--why hadn't Virgil ever helped, or asked him about it, or something--and he wanted Patton focused on him, not mitigating a disaster zone. Plus, in Patton's current state, being in his room might do more harm than good.

"Can we go to the Commons? We can sit on the couch."

Patton nodded. "Of course!"

Virgil led the way. He couldn't help but notice that Patton closed his door on the way out.

They passed two other doors on the way down. Disney music blasted from Roman's red door, as usual. Logan's room was silent, as usual. It was so normal, and yet so wrong, because Virgil knew if he talked to them he wouldn't find Roman and Logan. He'd find Creativity and Logic.

He couldn't tackle them alone. He needed Patton's help. That's why he was doing Patton first.

They sat on the couch opposite each other. Virgil resisted the urge to pull his knees up into his sweatshirt. Instead, he leaned forward and took Patton's hand.

"Patton, are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay!" Patton responded. "Are you?"

"No, that's irrelevant. We're talking about you here." Virgil stared at Patton. "I need you to tell me what's wrong so I can help."

Patton shifted under Virgil's gaze, his smile still wide. "Nothing's wrong, kiddo. I promise."

"I thought you said lying was bad," Virgil said.

Something in Patton's eyes broke.

"I talked to Deceit," Virgil insisted. "He told me what happened, and Pat, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have felt like that. I didn't mean to make you think everything was your fault."

"Everything's always my fault, kiddo." The happy tone finally slid away and was replaced by a blankness which was almost worse. "That's just what you get when you're a parent. You're responsible for your kids."

"You're not responsible for me." Virgil sighed and reached for Patton's hand. "You're responsible for yourself first."

Patton stared down at their interlocked hands. "I dunno, kiddo."

"Talk to me. Please." Virgil felt desperation edge into his voice. "Pat, everything's _wrong._ What you did to yourself, what the others did, it's wrong. I can't help them without you. I can't do--any of this without you. I'm no good on my own. Please. Please, please, please tell me what to do. If you want me to leave you alone--fine. I'll leave you alone. I'll let you live your life however you want. But if you're hurting, if you're the littlest bit unsure, I need to know." His voice cracked. "I'm the protector. I gotta protect you, Pat."

Patton smiled softly, and it was the first time Virgil really believed the smile. "Oh, kiddo. I love you."

"I love you too."

Did he really just say that? Virgil felt panic build inside of him but forced it down. He could worry later.

"I love you," he repeated--why not dig his own grave even deeper? "That's why I'm doing this."

Patton leaned into the couch and spread his fingers in the air. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Virge."

"No, you're not," Virgil chided gently.

"No, I'm not." Patton blew out a breath. "I want to be, honestly. Just--it's not there. All those feelings, they aren't there anymore."

"Do you want them back?"

"I don't know."

Virgil squeezed Patton's hand. "Tell me about it."

"It's like--" Patton waved his hand in the air. "I can feel happy. But when I don't want to, or it's hard to, I just feel cut off from everything. It's all numb and weird and white inside. All blank. I think that I'm sorry or sad, but I don't feel it. I don't like that. It's easier to just stay with the happy feelings when all the rest...kind of scares me." He paused. "But I can feel happy whenever I want. I can make that choice. That's something...new. I like that."

"You can feel happy when there's no other alternative," Virgil said. "That's not really happiness, right?"

Patton closed his eyes. "I don't know, Virgil. I don't."

Virgil had run out of things to say. He folded his sleeve over his hand to stop himself from biting his nails. "This is all so weird."

"Yeah."

"Patton--" He looked at the ground. "Patton, could you try getting everything back?"

"Why?" Patton asked.

"It doesn't have to be permanent. You can...you can go back to this if you want. Just...try it?"

Patton looked at Virgil with something akin to pity. "No."

Virgil made a noise like he'd been punched, and Patton's eyes widened slightly. "You're upset."

"Duh!"

"It's...harder to tell when I'm like this."

"You're like Logan, aren't you?" Virgil teased. "Who would have thought you'd switch places with Specs."

Patton giggled. "That's mean, Virgil."

"Why not?" Virgil asked, his smirk falling off his face. "Why can't you try?"

"I don't want to, kiddo."

"Why not?"

"I...I don't know--"

"Then make a guess. And if it's wrong, make another one." Virgil leaned forward and took Patton's other hand, staring into the side's eyes. "You gotta start somewhere and start moving forward, or you'll be stuck in one place. You can't stay here, Patton. You can't."

Patton looked at Virgil and nodded.

Virgil reached out and hugged Patton, who curled automatically into his sweatshirt. Virgil closed his eyes and waited for Patton to speak.

"It was hard, sometimes, being the dad." Patton's voice was blank and expressionless, but the words still cut deep. "I know I asked for this, and I'm okay with it. I love you guys. I love watching you succeed and helping in any way I can. I love cooking your breakfast and calming you down and making dad jokes and everything. It's wonderful. But I just felt...like I'm responsible for it being calm or happy or anything. I felt like if I slipped up or failed everything would come crashing down. I was the only one, really, that all of you could talk to and relied on. If I didn't do my job, I felt like everything would be ruined and you would hate me and Thomas would hate me and...and a lot of things. I know most of that wasn't true, but I still felt a lot of that pressure. That's why I tried to be happy, kiddo. So you guys could be happy."

Virgil wanted to cry. "You're not responsible for our happiness. Friendships are give and take, Patton. I would never ask you to be something you're not, and I could never hate you. I promise."

"I know," Patton echoed. "I know that, but I didn't feel that, you know?"

"I know."

"And after the argument, I felt like all that came true. No one wanted to talk to me, everyone hated me because I failed to stop it."

"I didn't--" Virgil thought about it. "Patton, you never tried to talk to me."

"Logan and Roman. I tried to talk to them, and they both shut me out." He hated Patton like this, saying the worst things in this emotionless voice. "I assumed that all of you hated me, so I didn't try with you."

"I would have opened the door," Virgil promised.

"Really?"

"Of course. I didn't blame you. I made a bad comment, and I'm sorry, but I know you did the best you could. Sometimes Logan and Roman are idiots."

"That they are." Patton looked at Virgil. "Are they happy?"

"What?"

"Logan and Roman. Are they happy with their choices?"

Virgil sighed. "I don't think Logan's much of anything right now. And Roman...I don't know about Roman."

"Huh."

"I'm going to talk to them next." Virgil looked down at Patton, who was still curled in his arms. "Pat, I know it's hard, but I love you no matter what. I love you when you're happy and when you're sad and when you're mad. I'm not a fair-weather friend, okay? You're a complete package, and if any one of us can't accept every part of you, we shouldn't be your friends."

"The fun thing about being numb," Patton said, "is that you're a bit more logical about things. And logically, I can see my past feelings on the matter were...misguided. I can also see that I'll likely do a one-eighty on that as soon as I have feelings again."

"Well, now that I know where some of this is coming from, I hope I can help you out." Virgil smiled. "I think Roman and Logan--and especially Thomas--will agree."

"Yeah. Okay." Patton smiled back. "I'll give it a shot, kiddo. For you."

Virgil squeezed Patton. "Thank you! Thank you. You won't regret it, I promise."

"I might." Patton laughed. "So, when are we doing the grand reverse?"

"I'm going to talk to Logan and Roman first," Virgil explained. "Then I'll call in Deceit right here in the commons. Could you--stay here? I dunno. Watch a movie?"

"I've been wanting to watch the new Toy Story," Patton agreed. "I'll be here, kiddo."

"Thanks again."

"No problem!"

Virgil stood up to go, then hesitated. "You know, it's weird, but I've never had a conversation this long without you making a dad joke."

"Really?" Patton screwed up his forehead. "Well, _dad_ can't be right!"

Virgil laughed, more at the presence of the pun than the actual quality. He kept laughing as he waved goodbye and walked down the hallway, but as if his destination had already dug its tendrils into him, his laughter died away.

A plain dark blue door with a well-lettered sign.

Logic.  
Logan Sanders  
Please knock before entering.  
If there is no response, please assume I have more important things to attend to.  
Thank you.

Virgil took a deep breath and knocked.


	7. Logically Speaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, kiddos! Here’s some of my favorite boy, Logan! Warning: a dash of angst and anxiety. Also, I accidentally made Deceit-ified Patton and Logan kind of similar in their experiences and motivations. I’d like to say that’s because they have parallels even though they deny them, but I’m honestly just not super creative. Maybe I’ll work it into the story eventually. Or maybe not.
> 
> Have a great day!

“Come in!” he heard Logan say.

That was a good sign. And Logan didn’t sound mad or upset. He didn’t sound much of anything, really.

Virgil placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it. He felt something twist inside of his stomach, too. But he opened the door.

He barely saw Logan’s room these days. He used to come inside to calm down, but that calm often turned to suffocation He felt his emotions slipping out from under him, like water through his fingers. It just increased the panic in the end. Logan understood that, so any time Virgil needed a raft in a storm, he went into Virgil’s room instead. He never complained about the increased anxiety. In fact, he’d claim the room didn’t affect him at all. He was Logic and Logic didn’t get anxious. Virgil, who saw the eyeshadow and the way his hands trembled, knew better.

After a few months of this, Virgil made him promise to just take them to the Commons. It was safer there. A middle ground between panic and numbness. A place where both of them felt steady.

He hadn’t been in Logan’s room since. But he remembered it was messy. For such an organization freak, Logan barely kept his piles of books from falling over. His whiteboards were always scribbled with seven different colors and sticky notes dotted the walls and floor. Virgil remembered one time he almost tripped over a leftover slice of cake. Logan admitted it was from Patton and he hadn’t had time to eat it. He was too busy working. Virgil could tell from the smell that the cake had sat there for days.

That was another reason he didn’t like Logan’s room. It worried him too much. If his room was that much of a mess, how much messier was his headspace?

It was hypocrisy, and it wasn’t. Virgil’s room was the aftermath of a tornado, because he threw things when he was upset.

A messy room meant a messy day.

Logan said it was because he needed to work. He didn’t have time to clean his room.

But he had time to read astronomy books and laugh with the others. He had time for breakfast and poking fun at Roman and tearing apart plot holes in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. He had time for them, but not for himself.

That was what worried Virgil—that Logan put himself second to his job.

And that theory had been proven. He’d let Deceit wall parts of him away.

Logan. Logan, who was logical and sound and knew exactly what to say when Virgil was panicking. Logan, who could list twenty facts about anything in under a minute. (They’d timed him.) Logan, who was stiff and awkward and refused to make dad jokes and wouldn’t admit it but he loved them. Virgil could tell he loved them. And he loved Logan back.

Logan, who was their anchor, made this mistake.

Was it a mistake? Or was it something Virgil should have seen coming?

All this flashed through his head when he stepped into Logan’s room and saw it was clean.

Books were ordered on the shelf. The whiteboards were divided into columns and covered with neat writing, different colors used for the headlines and the labels. The walls were empty, not a post-it note in sight, and the floor’s carpet was free of any leftover cake. Even Logan’s desk, an eldritch hodgepodge of ideas and facts, was cleaned off and emptied. A few piles of paper rested on it, perfectly aligned.

It was everything he hoped Logan would do. But it felt so wrong. Virgil shuddered as he stepped onto the vacuumed floor.

“Anxiety?” Logan asked from the desk. He put down his pencil and stood up. “What is your purpose for being here?”

He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t have anything—except he did. He knew, logically, Logan shouldn’t have done what he did. He just had to make Logan see that too.

The thing about Logan was he saw so much clearer when it was someone else’s problem.

“I wanted your advice.”

Logan looked Virgil over, his face impassive. Finally he nodded. “Would you like to have a seat?”

Virgil walked to Logan’s well-made bed and perched on the edge, curling into himself automatically. He wished he had put up his hood before entering. Logan would notice if he did so now. He contented himself by withdrawing his hands into his sleeves and staring at his knees.

“What do you wish for me to advise you on?” Logan asked, sitting in a chair opposite him and watching him intently. Virgil shifted under the intent gaze. He never enjoyed the feeling of being under the microscope, pressed between sheets of glass, but it was a feeling Logan often inadvertently gave. Virgil had confessed the feeling to Logan at one point, who had promised to do better. He debated telling Logan how he felt now, but Logan would probably dismiss it.

The thought sent a wave of hurt through Virgil. He couldn’t even talk to his best friend anymore. Not without a complete conversational minefield.

“Anxiety?” Logan prodded, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Right. I, um, I—” Virgil stared across the room at a whiteboard covered with math equations. “I need to make a decision and you’re good with decisions so I wanted your help.”

“Okay.”

“I’m thinking about—” Virgil steeled himself. “I’m thinking about taking Deceit’s offer.”

Logan blinked.

Virgil felt lava burn away his insides. He hated lying. Hated, hated, hated it. He’d grown up under the silver-tongued double-dealing two-face trickster’s yellow thumb, and for a while, he was so lost in those golden lies he forgot what was real anymore. He hated lying because lying was Deceit, and he hated lying because lying made him unmoored. Who could he trust if everyone was lying? What could he believe if everything was false?

Having Deceit whispering in his ear made it far easier to play the part of Paranoia—

But he didn’t think about that anymore. That was over. He was better now. He dealt in hard facts and cold truths, not wishy-washy wavering words of panic.

He’d just lied. He’d lied to bring down Deceit. Fighting fire with fire, he supposed. The ends justified the means, didn’t they?

And was it really a lie? Virgil couldn’t deny he’d thought about joining the others more than once. If he had Deceit work his suppression magic, maybe he’d fit in with Patton and Logan and Roman. Maybe he could just play the part of Anxiety and let his feelings on the subject get squashed into oblivion. It was tempting. But his aversion to any contact with Deceit was too strong. He didn’t want the slippery snake messing around in his head.

“Ah,” Logan finally said. “May I ask why you are considering it?”

“I mean, it makes sense, kind of.” Virgil avoided looking at Logan. It was easier to lie when he didn’t make eye contact. But wasn’t that a sign of lying? Wouldn’t Logan figure it out and hate him and kick him out entirely and _why was he doing this he was bad he was being a bad guy_\--

“It would be easier to be Anxiety if I just, you know, shut out everything else. Sometimes I give you guys leeway because you’re my friends. Or I lower all expectations for social gatherings just because you did something nice. It gets in the way of my job.” Virgil summoned his courage and looked straight into Logan’s eyes. “And my job is way more important than how I feel.”

Logan’s face was blank. He couldn’t tell if he had struck a nerve or not. He hoped he had. He must have.

“But I don’t trust Deceit. So I wanted to ask what I should do.”

Logan folded his fingers together. “It seems a simple pro-con situation. The pros of making this choice are a more functional and productive lifestyle. The cons are the possibility of Deceit’s intrusion and/or manipulation, and a lack of social connections.”

Virgil spluttered. “A lack of social connections? Since when do _you_ think that’s a con?”

“For more emotional beings such as yourself,” Logan clarified, “social interaction is indeed necessary for mental and emotional health.”

“What about you, then?”

“I am not an emotional being.”

“But you have mental health, though, right?” Virgil forgot he was supposed to be talking about himself. “Isn’t it important to maintain your own?”

Logan sighed. “My mental health is not a priority, Anxiety. I have managed to do my job very well in the past, and my productivity has gone even further now, so I can only be satisfied with my life choices at the moment.”

“Your job isn’t everything, Logan.” Virgil sighed. “You’re not just Logic, just like I’m not just Anxiety.”

“But you are. It is your function, it is your—”

“Look.” Virgil tried to get himself back on task. “Logan, I want to know whether I should suppress my emotions or not.”

“Of course not.”

Virgil resisted the urge to pump his fist in triumph. “Why not?”

“Because the cons outweigh the pros.” Logan pushed up his glasses and adopted his lecturing voice, like a teacher with an unruly student. Virgil usually found it condescending, but today it made him almost relax. “First of all, you have no guarantee this will actually work, only the word of Deceit, who is a notorious liar. Secondly, you need social interaction and some degree of emotional connection to remain functional. As a person who suffers from high levels of anxiety, isolating oneself may increase those feelings. Finally, Deceit, as said before, is a notorious liar. Even if this does work, having him invade your mind and change your neuron functions is highly suspect and may have unintended consequences or side effects. Giving that much power to Deceit seems a bad move if one wishes to diminish the Dark Sides’ hold over Thomas.”

Virgil almost laughed. “Exactly!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Lo, you’ve reasoned all this out like a genius,” Virgil explained. “Why didn’t you take your own advice, you big nerd? For someone who wants to stop with all the emotions, you acted on emotions to get rid of them.”

Logan blinked. “Wait—what about—ah. I see. This was a distortion of my reality to set up parallels to my own situation, thereby endeavoring to convince me that my past choices have been illogical.”

“Well, yeah?” Virgil shrugged. “Did it work?”

“Your falsehood was rather convincing, except for one key detail.” Logan raised a finger. “Anxiety, you and I are different. For you, it is not always necessary for you to do your job. Too much of you can be debilitating. So taking away your conscience and emotions would lead to more struggle for Thomas. It is not the same for me.”

“Why isn’t it?” Virgil asked. “I think too much of any side isn’t good. Imagine Roman in full control, or Patton. We’d either pass out from exhaustion or single-handedly adopt every puppy in the Northern Hemisphere.”

“True,” Logan admitted. “But for me—”

“But for you, what?” Virgil leaned forward, glaring. “If you believe for one second your job is more important than ours, I will fight you. We are all equals here. And if you believe for one second your job should come before everything, even good mental and emotional health, I will fight you _again._ You’re only hurting yourself, Lo. You made a bad decision and you just want to stick to it because you don’t want to be wrong.” His glare softened and he reached out, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “It’s okay. You messed up. We all do. Now I’m offering you a chance to make things right.”

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “You’re being heavily influenced by your emotional state.”

“I’m in your room, Lo.” Virgil waved an arm around at the books. “I’m calmer than I ever am. If we weren’t here, I’d be hyperventilating. This is the most ‘logical’ me you’ll get. And logical me is saying, logically, you should get rid of all the power Deceit has over you. You’re thinking now. Can’t you see you made a mistake?”

Logan stared at the opposite wall and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Anxiety. I do silly things with emotions.”

“Welcome to the club,” Virgil said with a wry smile. “We all float down here.”

“I do…stupid things with emotions. I hurt people.”

Virgil felt concern well up inside of him. He reached for Logan’s hand and squeezed it. “Lo…like I said, welcome to the club. We’ve all been there. It’s part of being human.”

Logan tilted his head. “I am not human. I am a side of Thomas’ personality.”

“Do you breathe?”

“Yes.”

“Do you eat and sleep?”

“…Yes.”

“Do you walk on two legs? Do you speak with vocal cords? Are you constructed of tissue and bone?”

“I suppose, but—”

“Hey, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck and dies like a duck, it’s probably a duck.”

Logan exhaled. “Your logic is rather faulty, but convincing.”

“So you’ll kick Deceit out?”

“I will attempt to do so.”

“Great!” Virgil launched forward and hugged Logan, who froze stock-still. Virgil froze as well. “Sorry!” he yelped, extricating himself. “Sorry. If your room wasn’t calming me I wouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s quite all right, Anxiety.” Logan nodded. “What shall I do?”

“Go wait with Pat, okay? He’s watching a movie. You can critique the plot holes with him. I’m—” Virgil paused and felt something clench in his stomach. “I have to get Roman.”

“I wish you the best of luck,” said Logan, walking to the door. “Creativity is often rather hard-headed and impulsive. Try not to get angry—it would be beneficial for you not to hurt him.”

Virgil walked out of Logan’s room and felt his anxiety surge back. Roman. He was going to talk to Roman.

_Roman._

Roman, who had drawn his sword.

“No,” Virgil mumbled. “It’s not him I’m worried about.”


	8. A Beautifully Manicured Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m terrible at action scenes and I should have just had them talk it out like normal humans.
> 
> But we’ve done talking already! Now it’s time for angsty fighting!
> 
> At least after 500 words of Virgil staring at a door.
> 
> Does it show that I don’t know what I’m doing?
> 
> Well, I hope you’re having fun reading this wonderful mess. I’m sure having fun writing it.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Some fantasy violence and death threats. It’s not a nice time, kiddos.

Virgil didn’t know what to expect.

He never did when it came to Roman. Some days Roman was bubbly and excited and the wind beneath Thomas’ wings. Other days he was mopey, grumpy, and prone to snapping at anyone that got in his way. On his worst days, he was just—empty, like a balloon running out of air. Those days scared Virgil the most, because when he was empty, he was _quiet_. There was no singing of Disney songs, no loud teasing of Logan or Virgil, no buoyancy or elaborate ideas or even arguing or complaining.

Virgil disliked Roman’s loudness. It was off-putting and irritating. But it was a part of who the creative side was, and he’d learned to deal with it.

When Roman was quiet, he didn’t know how to deal with that.

He didn’t know how to deal with Roman most times, if he was being honest. The side was just too quick, too impulsive, too grandiose for Virgil’s taste.

It was clear the feeling was mutual. Roman still tiptoed around Virgil like he was made of glass. He’d snap back or give a sarcastic nickname, then immediately take it back. Virgil couldn’t handle this push and pull. He wanted Roman to make up his _mind_. Hate Anxiety or like Anxiety? Be loud or be quiet? Complain loudly about his hardships or refuse to talk about himself at all? Roman was a creature of contradictions.__

_ _Logan would probably be able to sort through Roman’s words and find out what counted and what didn’t. What was a façade and what was honest._ _

_ _But Logan wasn’t here. Only Virgil was here, standing in front of Roman’s door, petrified._ _

_ _Steeling himself for the hurricane that was Roman._ _

_ _Telling himself it didn’t matter what Roman thought, what Roman said. Roman had opinions and that was okay. Virgil didn’t have to listen. He just had to help._ _

_ _Bracing himself for whatever world he would stumble into._ _

_ _Roman’s room was different from the others. All the sides could manipulate their rooms to some extent, though most of the time they chose not to. Logan especially hated changing the dimensions of his room and complained vehemently whenever it happened accidentally. Virgil had to admit he agreed. The sensation of familiarity was one he enjoyed. His room hadn’t changed for years, ever since he plopped down in his new room and realized this was his home now. Not downstairs, but upstairs. Upstairs with Logan, Patton, and Roman. He was wanted._ _

_ _But Roman’s room was always changing. Probably because Roman represented Creativity and Imagination, his room was whatever he wanted it to be. He kept it in a simple way when he was working or sleeping, with a red-draped canopy bed and a desk like Logan’s, usually piled with items and ideas. But Roman was an actor at heart, and his favorite pastime was acting out those ideas. Sometimes it was related to a video or story idea, but sometimes it was just having fun, blowing off steam._ _

_ _Virgil had entered Roman’s room without prompting exactly three times. The first time he gained a mermaid’s tail and became a noble of Atlantis. That wasn’t so bad, once the shock wore off. He’d helped unravel a conspiracy, and Roman had only been sort of insufferable._ _

_ _The next time, Roman was slaying a dragon. Virgil lasted about three seconds before he ran away and slammed the door. He was fight-or-flight, okay? And there was no way he was fighting a freaking _dragon_ with purple eyes the size of his skull and talons that could rip through him in an instant._ _

_ _The final time Roman wasn’t even there. He had rode off on some quest or another. Virgil was left alone, standing on the darkened bank of a river, surrounded by a forest filled with colorful fireflies and babbling fairies. He had to admit it was nice. Sort of relaxing. And the detail…Roman always put so much detail into his worlds. The trees swayed with the breeze. The fairies spoke in a chiming language he didn’t understand. The fireflies softly blinked over the water, which stretched to a faraway bank with draping shadows and clambering trees spiking into the sky._ _

_ _Between swaths of clouds, he could make out the stars. They weren’t accurate constellations, something Logan would be annoyed by, no doubt. They were simply cast like spots of paint over the velvety black night._ _

_ _Virgil had stayed there longer than he was willing to admit._ _

_ _But those had been Roman in a good mood. He’d never had to deal with Roman’s realm when Roman was mad, or heartbroken…or warped by Deceit to have no shame or conscience._ _

_ _Virgil wavered, staring at the door like it would reveal Roman’s secrets._ _

_ _The words Roman Sanders were painted in glittery gold letters, and all around the door silver trees and animals clustered in swirling, intricate designs. It was too intricate for conjuring. Roman must have painted this himself. Virgil’s mouth quirked in a smile at the thought._ _

_ _That smile was just enough to convince himself to open the door._ _

_ _Like a black hole, Virgil was sucked into Roman’s room. Colors swirled around him, through him, and purple bled into the surrounding area like a stain through sheets. In the distance, a red stain formed, and Virgil could almost feel Roman eyeing him, felt the echoes of the previous construct. He’d dismantled it as soon as Virgil stepped in. It was something steampunk-y, with flying machines and everything. Shame—it sounded fun._ _

_ _But Roman apparently didn’t want Virgil poking around in those worlds. He supposed he couldn’t blame the guy. Virgil had a tendency to make storylines…different whenever he entered them. They usually lost a lot of the color and started getting more dangerous, more complex, and far more angsty._ _

_ _Something pulsed around Virgil—a swath of midnight black, coloring his purple, soaking it in._ _

_ _That wasn’t a good sign._ _

_ _And then grey spilled across the floor—and there was a floor. And silvery white spun into clouds around the edges. And the other colors faded, except for the red, which grew stronger until it whipped itself into a frenzy. And then Virgil was spat out into the world._ _

_ _It was a simple one, probably because Roman didn’t have much time to prepare. It was a flat grey surface, a disk of sorts, with smoke rising from the edges. And Roman stood on one side. He was wearing a cape and armor as red as his sash, holding a sword._ _

_ _Virgil looked down and saw he was in black armor with a black cape. A single lightning bolt was etched into his chestplate. He was holding a sword._ _

_ _Oh, _no._ No, no, no, nonononono…_ _

_ _“You aren’t supposed to be here,” said Roman coldly. Despite the distance between them, Virgil heard him clearly._ _

_ _“But I suppose if you are, you can help me.”_ _

_ _“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled._ _

_ _“I’ve been trying to improve my swordplay lately.” Roman raised his sword. “You can help with that.”_ _

_ _Another stab of fear hit Virgil in the gut. “Roman!” he blurted out. “Princey! Creativity. Whatever. C’mon. Do we have to? I’m terrible at swordfighting, and you could get hurt.”_ _

_ _“Oh, how kind of you! Worrying over me.” Roman stepped closer, placing his hand to his chest in a dramatic gesture. “Fear not, Anxiety. I think you’ll be the perfect opponent.”_ _

_ _“Did you just say ‘fear not, Anxiety?’” Virgil said incredulously._ _

_ _“Now stand and fight, villain.”_ _

_ _Before Virgil could protest that he was already standing, and that he wasn’t a villain, and he didn’t really know how to fight, and could they please just talk like civilized people, Roman was upon him._ _

_ _The first slash came for Virgil’s legs. Virgil barely managed to parry it and scoot away, though not too far. The strange smokiness at the edge of the ring made him nervous._ _

_ _Roman stabbed at Virgil’s chest. Virgil twisted to the side, scrambling away._ _

_ _“You can’t run forever, Anxiety!” Roman said. His voice was cheerful and buoyant, like this was just another game or another story._ _

_ _But it wasn’t. He had cast Virgil as the villain and himself as the hero. Heroes defeated villains._ _

_ _Roman was a good fighter. He struck with purpose and vigor, and he was fighting to win._ _

_ _Virgil was an inexperienced fighter. He was scared out of his mind, and he didn’t want to hurt his friend._ _

_ _There was no way for Virgil to win._ _

_ _Roman slashed at him, and Virgil blocked it. For a second, they stared each other down, swords pressed against each other. The fierceness in Roman’s eyes sent shivers down Virgil’s spine._ _

_ _Then Roman twisted his sword and Virgil’s spun out of his hand. It clattered to the ground. And Virgil reached for it, ready to dive after it, knowing he couldn’t get there in time._ _

_ _He couldn’t win this game. But if the story didn’t serve him, change the story._ _

_ _Virgil closed his eyes and imagined._ _

_ _And a wall of dark, writhing shadows rose from nowhere, cutting Roman’s sword in two._ _

_ _Virgil rose in the air, letting his cape flutter in nonexistent wind. He pulled shadows from nowhere, letting them crawl over the arena like vines, snapping and curling when they touched the smoke. They surrounded Roman, creeping up his armor, turning his bright red paint black and smoky. Roman struggled, crying out, and then the shadows wrapped around his mouth, muffling his cries and holding him in place like ropes._ _

_ _If Roman wanted Virgil to be the bad guy, fine. He’d be the bad guy._ _

_ _And he couldn’t repress the tiny thrill that he felt. It was so long since he’d been this powerful, since he’d allowed his fear to run rampant, since he’d chosen fight instead of flight. If he did this more often, maybe he could—_ _

_ _No. He stopped himself right there. This was a fantasy world where Virgil could give himself magic shadow powers and nobody could really get hurt. In real life, this would be less of a picnic._ _

_ _And even here, the terrified look on Roman’s face was punishment enough._ _

_ _Virgil lowered himself to the ground and let the shadows peel away. Roman fell to the ground, shaking. Virgil’s protective instincts sent him rushing to his friend, reaching out._ _

_ _“You alright, Roman? I didn’t mean to—”_ _

_ _Roman stuck his sword under Virgil’s chin. “Not another move, Anxiety.”_ _

_ _“You need to come with me, Roman. Deceit messed you up and you have to listen to me, you’re not safe like this, you—”_ _

_ _“Enough talking.” The sword point dug into Virgil’s neck. “I’m not listening to your lies, Anxiety.”_ _

_ _Being nice wouldn’t work. Being sincere wouldn’t work. Roman believed Virgil was out to get him. It made sense, really. If you believed you were the best, wouldn’t you also believe everyone wanted to rid you of that title? All throughout history, the most egotistical rulers were the most paranoid._ _

_ _Paranoid…_ _

_ _Roman was paranoid. He was insufferable and egotistical and brash, but he was also paranoid. Deceit had accidentally made him vulnerable in a way he’d never have been before._ _

_ _Virgil could do paranoia. Virgil was good at paranoia._ _

_ _Paranoia was his job._ _

_ _Virgil chuckled, slowly and menacingly. “Well _done,_ Roman. Such a good performance. I’m proud of you.”_ _

_ _Roman growled. “What are you up to?”_ _

_ _“Nothing.” Virgil sneered. “And if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”_ _

_ _He slipped out of Roman’s grasp and started strolling around the edge of the arena, carefully pushing his spine straighter and making his strides longer._ _

_ _“See, the thing is, Roman,” Virgil said finally, “I want you to stop hurting yourself. I want you to accept all parts of yourself and not be afraid to talk to us about what you feel. But that’s…hard. I get that.”_ _

_ _His tone didn’t match his words. He had meant to threaten Roman, but now he was comforting the guy? What was up with that?_ _

_ _And he wanted to keep talking. He wanted to harness this fake confidence and tell Roman it was okay to doubt yourself, it was okay to be sad, it was okay to not know what to do. And that Virgil cared. Virgil wanted to make sure he was okay._ _

_ _But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because he had no time anymore._ _

_ _“Roman.” Virgil closed his eyes. “You are going to undo what Deceit did and get your shame back.”_ _

_ _“No,” Roman responded coldly. “I am not.”_ _

_ _“You are. Or…” Virgil braced himself. “Or I’ll find every story you write. I will infect every world you make and I will change it so I have the power and you don’t. And you’ll lose, over and over again. You made me the bad guy tonight, and so help me I will be the bad guy, Roman. Unless you come with me and make things right, I will never leave you alone.” Virgil opened his eyes and stared Roman down. “Have you ever died in the Imagination, Roman? I’ll bet it’s not pretty.”_ _

_ _It took two more minutes after that. Two more minutes of threats and cajoling and Virgil holding back tears. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Roman hated him. Roman would hate him, even after he got his shame back._ _

_ _But that was okay. Because Roman would be safe, and that’s what really mattered. Not Virgil._ _

_ _Roman didn’t say a word as they walked through his door and to the common room together._ _

_ _Virgil didn’t blame him._ _

_ _He wouldn’t want to talk to himself right now, either._ _


	9. A Few Kinds of Silence

The common room was silent.

Logan sat, spine straight and hands clasped, on the nearest chair. Patton was curled on the edge of the sofa, knees tucked to his chest. Roman sat on top of the couch, his legs splayed out confidently.

Virgil stood next to the TV. It was paused, but he could see they had been watching Ratatouille.

Nobody met his gaze. Patton stared at his knees. Logan stared at his hands. Roman leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

“Well,” Virgil said finally, hating the way his voice cracked. “Should we get this over with?”

Logan nodded. Patton’s mouth quirked in a smile that only lasted for a second. Roman waved his hand listlessly. Virgil took all three motions as tentative _yes_es.

“Right,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and reached downwards with his mind. “Deceit?”

A flash of yellow sparked in the void beneath him, like dry wood catching fire.

He opened his eyes and Deceit was there, leaning against the kitchen doorway, rubbing one gloved finger over the paint.

“Hello, Virgil,” Deceit said smoothly. “Hello, Patton, Logan, Roman. Long time no see.”

“You saw us yesterday,” Logan pointed out.

“No I didn’t.”

“Whatever, guys. Come on.” Virgil stuck his hands behind his back to disguise their shaking. “Deceit, undo what you did.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know.” Virgil scrambled for words. The mere presence of Deceit was enough to send him reeling. His confidence from earlier was shattered. His assuredness was melted. He was twelve years old again, staring into Deceit’s eyes, hearing that _everything would be okay if he just stayed hidden--_

No. Virgil shook off the memories like a dog shaking off water. This wasn’t the time.

“Give them back what you stole,” Virgil said firmly. “They want you to, so you have to. Those are the rules.”

“I’m still not following,” Deceit said. The corner of his mouth said otherwise—it was tilted in a smirk. “If they really want me to restore their flaws, those flaws would have been automatically restored. Their conviction would have overridden my filter.”

“What?” Virgil said. He felt his hands go numb.

“What I’m saying is, whatever you did to convince them, it wasn’t enough. They may _want_ to want me gone, but they don’t.”

Patton curled up tighter. Roman released a breath.

And Logan stood up. “Falsehood.”

Deceit raised his only eyebrow.

“I cannot speak on behalf of the others,” Logan began, “but personally, I was very convinced. I also believe you are simply trying to mislead us into maintaining your influence. This action only serves to further prove Anxiety’s point. You are untrustworthy and should not be allowed to squirm about in our heads unchecked. Your figurative ace in the hole was insufficient. Please cease your manipulating games and remove the filter from our heads before I am forced to take action.”

There was another silence. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was triumphant.

Patton beamed. Virgil couldn’t hold back a smile. Even Roman looked at Logan with something bordering on respect.

Deceit took a step back. He opened his mouth as if to contradict Logan, then let out a long-suffering sigh. “Who’s first?”

“You’re serious?” Virgil said.

“Deadly serious. Despite not wearing a necktie.” Deceit’s eyes flicked upward in an eye-roll. “If you’re so tired of me, far be it to stay where I am not wanted. Who will go first?”

Virgil scanned the faces. “Roman.” He was the most likely to back out.

“Roman.” Deceit walked over to Roman, who automatically placed a hand on his sword. “No, none of that, now. You need to be relaxed.”

Roman shot a loaded glance at Virgil, who glared back. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking his hand off the sword.

Deceit pulled off his gloves and lightly pressed his fingers to Roman’s forehead. They glowed slightly, and Deceit’s snake-eye glowed with it, his other eye narrowed in concentration. He was muttering a long string of words. Virgil only caught a few: “…past that…no time for memories…relax, why don’t you? You’re making it harder…oh, that’s interesting…damn you and your mind-blocks…ugh, so much guilt…clean up your messes, Roman…there we go.”

He lifted his fingers and for a second Virgil could see a shining golden lattice pulling from Roman’s mind. Then it flickered in the air and vanished.

Roman opened his eyes.

And Virgil knew. He knew, somehow, though Roman didn’t say a word, that this was _his_ Roman. The Roman who called him nicknames and sang too loudly during movie night and battled dragons for fun. The Roman who felt he was still making up for treating Virgil as the bad guy. The Roman who never forgave himself.

The Roman who was worthy of Virgil’s forgiveness.

The Roman who was worthy of everything.

That Roman.

“You okay?” Patton asked.

Roman curled over slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, Pat. I’m fine.”

“He’s _perfectly_ fine,” Deceit agreed. “Sudden reconciliation with uglier parts of oneself does _not_ cause some emotional backlash. So yes, he’s doing _wonderful._ Just _peachy._ You don’t need to worry about him. He certainly _isn’t_ worried about—”

“Shut up!” Roman snapped. His hand flew to his sword. “You can shove it, okay? Just go do whatever to the rest of them and leave me alone!”

Deceit raised his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender. “Whatever you say, Roman.”

He placed his hands on the couch and flipped deftly over the top, falling into place on a cushion. Virgil resisted the urge to whistle with respect. Deceit reached for Patton, who uncurled slightly to give him room.

His muttering was quieter this time. “Here…this shouldn’t hurt…I just have to…around there…” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Wow, Patton.”

Patton looked morosely at the ground. “Just do it.”

Deceit nodded and pulled a similar golden net from Patton’s head. Patton shook slightly, and as soon as it was released he sprung from the couch. Virgil barely had time to prepare before Patton was upon him.

Patton squeezed him in a fierce hug.

Virgil almost fell over. As it was, he stumbled back a few steps, almost dragging Patton with him. The side was clinging to his shoulders like Virgil was the only thing keeping him upright. Virgil reached around and squeezed back, if only to regain his balance.

“Virge, kiddo, I’m so sorry!”

The words were muffled by Virgil’s jacket. Patton rose his head to speak clearer, and Virgil realized with a shock that he was crying. His eyes were red and tears streaked down his cheeks.

“Pat, it’s okay—” Virgil said frantically, glancing around for backup.

“No, it’s _not!_” Patton took a shuddering breath and pushed himself off Virgil. “Are you okay? Are you alright? Are you hurt?

“I’m fine.” Virgil was torn between relief and concern. “Pat, what’re you doing?”

“I’m checking up on you.” Patton brushed back Virgil’s bangs and examined his face. “I didn’t earlier, and that was my fault, and oh you must have been so upset, Virgil, why didn’t I—”

“It’s not your fault.” Virgil gently pushed Patton’s hand off his head. “You weren’t…you. And everything’s fine now. I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispered. “I was stupid and listened to him and I shouldn’t have done that but I was just so worried, kiddo, and you weren’t talking to me, and everyone was mad and I thought it was my fault and—”

“I know. I know, Pat.”

“I’m _so_ sorry, Virgil. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Virgil said softly.

“What?” Patton frowned and gave Virgil a disappointed Dad face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo! Stop talking bad about yourself!”

“Well…” Virgil couldn’t resist fighting back. “I might have stopped it earlier if I’d talked to you instead of sulked, or not made that stupid comment in the first place, or—or, you know, sucked it up. You were way happier like that, and I made you change because of me, and I’m sorry—”

“No.” Patton shook his head. “No, no, no, kiddo. You did everything exactly right, and I’m—” Patton leaned forward and hugged Virgil again. “I’m so proud of you.”

Virgil buried his face in Patton’s shoulder. “You’re the best, Patton.”

“You’re the bester.”

“You’re the bestest.”

“You’re the—”

“Excuse me?” Deceit said languidly. “Much as I hate to interrupt this _touching_ moment, are you going to continue making me want to gag or are you going to quiet down and let me fix your good old stinky-poo-poo logical side?”

Roman snickered, the laugh a ghost on his face.

Logan rolled his eyes. “If you must.”

Deceit walked over. It was quick this time. Barely a minute passed before Deceit nodded at Logan.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “You suppressed the _least_ amount of thoughts, so the backlash _won’t_ be proportional. Are you ready?”

Logan gave a short, jerky nod.

Deceit lifted a web of gold from Logan’s mind, twisted his fingers in midair and caught it.

And for a second, Virgil saw Logan almost break. His mouth fell open, his hands clenched in fists, and his eyes sparkled. He took a deep breath, stamping his mouth into a thin line and squinting his eyes shut. He breathed out.

Then he opened his eyes again and he was back to normal, getting up brusquely and adjusting his glasses.

Logan turned to Deceit. “You can go.”

“And miss this diabetes-giving fluffy nonsense?” Deceit rolled his eyes. “I would never.”

He sunk out, lifting one hand with a jovial middle finger.

And it was silent again, a tentative silence where nobody dared break the spell. Virgil had never known how many silences there were in the world.

Patton broke it. “So. Kiddos? How are you all feeling?”

“Fine,” Roman said shortly.

“I’m feeling,” Logan said. “So there’s that.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay? Deceit said it would be a rough transition, are you sure you don’t need—”

“I am fine. Virgil.” Logan raised a hand. “I appreciate the caution and concern, but I am adequate.”

“What’d you get your feelings back for, then?”

Logan glanced at Patton, who had his hands on his hips and an unreadable expression on his face.

“I beg your pardon, Patton?”

“What’d you get your feelings back for if you’re just gonna ignore them?”

Logan opened his mouth, and for the first time, the logical side seemed at a loss for words.

“It’s okay, Lo.” Virgil said quietly. “You’re lost, it’s okay, we can help.”

Logan looked at them. “I’m…thank you.”

“No problem. What friends do.” Virgil shrugged. “So? Honest answer—how are you?”

“I’m…” Logan lifted his hands and looked them over. “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.”

“No!” Logan blurted out. “I’m supposed to know things! This is wrong, I don’t—I can’t—I mean, I’m not supposed to—”

Patton left Virgil’s side in a blur, and before anyone could even shout a warning he was hugging Logan with fierceness.

“You are not supposed to be _anything._” Patton said firmly. “You are Logan, and you are perfect and special just the way you are.” He relinquished his hold on Logan, who looked a combination of shocked, grateful, and suffocated. “You…you shine.”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Thank you, Patton,” he said softly. “I appreciate that.”

Patton beamed, reaching behind his glasses to wipe away a tear.

“However, you are not the person I need to talk to.”

Virgil froze. But Logan’s searching gaze didn’t fall on him. It found Roman, who was fiddling with the end of his shirt, avoiding their eyes.

“Roman,” Logan said, and again his voice was softer than Virgil had ever heard.

“Yeah?” Roman said. He didn’t look up. His shoulders clenched. Virgil could tell he was bracing for a fight.

“I’m sorry.”

“You…” Roman looked up, almost falling off the couch. “You what?”

“I’m _sorry,_” Logan repeated. “I said things I shouldn’t have and I hurt you, and instead of trying to make amends I hid in my own cowardice. You are important. You are equal to me, to all of us. You are a vital part of Thomas and I’m so sorry I ever insinuated otherwise. Please forgive me.” Logan’s confident expression faltered as he took a step forward. “Please. Roman. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’d do if you hated me.”

Roman blinked at Logan, his face shining with all the things unsaid. Fear. Hope. Gratitude. Love.

Then a shutter slammed over his face, the lights went out, and Roman slid off the couch.

“I forgive you, Logan,” he said dully. “But I need to go.”

And before they could do anything, before Virgil could call after him, Roman was gone.

They stood in a ring in the commons, Patton with his hands pressed to his face, his cheeks quivering and his tears threatening to fall. Logan, who looked like he’d been slapped, wearing the most heartbroken expression Virgil had ever seen. And Virgil, hands in his pockets, wondering how he’d managed to save the day and still mess it up.

This was the worst kind of silence, he decided. The silence at the end of the story. When it was supposed to be the happily-ever-after. Yet here they were, unfinished, unfixed, unable to move.

“No.” Virgil broke the silence. “No. It’s not over until I say it is.”

“Come on,” he said over his shoulder as he marched away. “We’ve got a Prince to find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deceit has hardcore parkour skills. I like to headcanon, whenever little Virgil had a bad day, they would just sit on top of the fridge together. He's a little sneaky snek who sits in places not meant to be sat on.
> 
> Yeah, I love Deceit. I'm sorry-not-sorry. I need to write a story where Dee is the hero, honestly. He's pretty morally-grey in this one, clearly doing what he thinks is best but messing with them all along the way.
> 
> Happy new year!


	10. Thunderstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so giant ending chapter, huh? Sorry, I just had a lot to write. I needed to stick some Roman angst somewhere, so I decided to go out with a bang.
> 
> This is the end of the road! Last chapter! Will Virgil save the day? (Spoiler alert: probably.)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Some angst and self-deprecation, negative self-talk, and some violence against straw dummies.

Virgil knocked once. There was no answer.

Patton tugged at the ends of his cardigan.

Virgil knocked again. There was still no answer.

Logan pushed up his glasses.

“Roman?” Virgil called.

He heard no reply.

“So are we—” Patton began.

Logan stepped forward and grabbed the handle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Virgil yelled, snatching at Logan’s sleeve. “_What_ are you doing?”

Logan blinked. “Opening the door. Is that not the goal?”

“Well, you can’t just _open_ it!”

“I’m confused.”

Virgil groaned, pulling Logan away. “If Roman’s not answering, he’s either really upset or he’s on an adventure. Or both. That means we don’t know what’s behind that door. We shouldn’t just go in there unprepared.”

Patton frowned. “I dunno, kiddo. Roman wouldn’t hurt us. And if he’s upset, we should try to help him!”

“I agree with Patton,” Logan said. “We will accomplish nothing if we simply stand here.”

“But—” Virgil twisted his hands together. “What if Roman doesn’t want to see us? What if he—what if he’s mad, what if he hates me, what if he—”

“Virgil.” Logan stepped forward and placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “This was your idea.”

“I know.”

“It’s a good one.”

“I—I know.”

“I promise I will do my utmost to avoid letting harm come to you or to Patton.” Logan smiled softly. “Trust me, Virgil. I’m on your side.”

Virgil smiled hesitantly back. “Can I at least get some band-aids?”

“I’ll get ‘em!” Patton volunteered, running down the hallway. A few minutes later he was back, carrying more than just band-aids.

“Patton,” Logan said. “Is that Crofters?”

Patton tossed Logan the jar of Crofters. “Yep! And some band-aids for Virgil, and some sandwiches if we get hungry, and some tissues if anyone needs to cry!”

Virgil clasped the band-aids. “Thanks, Pat.”

“This is…I didn’t ask for this.” Logan examined the jar. It was Loganberry, his favorite. “I don’t think it will be necessary to have it—”

Patton’s face fell and Logan quickly corrected himself.

“It won’t be necessary, but I’ll enjoy it anyway.” He tucked the jar in his pocket. “Thank you, Patton.”

Patton beamed.

“So are we ready?” Virgil asked, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

“I’m scared,” Patton admitted.

“Me too,” Virgil said.

“Me three,” Logan added. “But this is for Roman, and we will be fine.”

Virgil looked at the two of them, the confidence shining in their eyes, and nodded. He drew himself up, turned around, and softly opened the door.

They stepped inside, the door closed behind them, and the darkness lifted to reveal a meadow.

It wasn’t a sunny day. The sky shone without a sun, coils of misty fog sitting heavily on the horizon. All around them was brittle green-gold grass that slashed at Virgil’s knees and pricked through his shoes. The grasses stretched over flat plains until they met the cloudy sky and vanished. The field wavered slightly in the wind—the air was cool and crisp and seemed to snap across the back of Virgil’s neck.

Just ahead of them were the glimmering white ruins of a castle.

A few pillars and an entrance hall still stood, but the rest had tumbled to the earth. A spiraling turret stuck up from the ground. Chunks of stone were embedded between tufts of grass, worn away by wind and time. The roof had caved in so the remaining structure resembled a patio. It was stained by mud and worn away by time, but it still twinkled merrily in the light from the nonexistent sun.

Virgil stepped forward, hearing the grass rustle and crack under his feet.

Then he spun around and breathed a sigh of relief. The door was still there, hanging in space. He reached out and opened it, and saw the familiar hallway.

“Is everyone all right?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s worrying,” Virgil amended. “It’s pretty too, I guess, but Roman always thinks of himself as a prince, right? Well…look around. This is his castle, and it’s destroyed.”

Logan’s face darkened. “You’re implying he’s not in a great mood, and these ruins are a metaphor?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not in a great mood,” Patton said. “But not a terrible one either, right? It’s still pretty nice out. The ruins are pretty.” He scratched his ear. “It can’t be too bad. One time he was furious at us, and I went inside…it wasn’t nice.”

Logan nodded. “It definitely could be worse. It could be storming or some such.”

“Um, Logan?” Virgil pointed.

Dark clouds were massing on the horizon, lightning already flickering between them.

“Ah.” Logan began to walk. “Then we had better hurry.”

“Hurry where?” Virgil asked, following him. Patton brought up the rear.

“Have you not seen?” Logan pointed at the hall of the castle, the only section left standing. It was many yards away, but Virgil could make out a small figure with a red sash.

“Roman.”

“Exactly.”

They started walking.

It took about five minutes to reach Roman. Five minutes Virgil spent struggling through too-tall grasses, hearing Patton complain under his breath. Five minutes where the clouds grew thicker and darker, and thunder rumbled across the plains. The wind blew harder, sending more grasses slashing through Virgil’s jeans. His hood blew off and he tugged it back on, following the path Logan tore for them. Occasionally he reached a chunk of marble and climbed to the top, seeing the field ripple around him in the wind, seeing Roman’s figure grow larger and larger.

And finally they were only a few feet away, in the shadow of a particularly large pillar. Patton started forward and it was Logan who pulled him back.

Roman had his sword out. He was pacing around the hall, heels clicking on the marble. Around him were several stuffed, straw dummies stuck on poles. One had a tie wrapped around its neck. Another had a cardigan. A third—Virgil’s stomach lurched at the sight of a purple-and-black plaid shirt. The colors matched his hoodie.

Roman was muttering to himself. Snatches of words floated over to Virgil’s ears, interrupted by ever-louder rumbles of thunder.

“No, no, no, stupid, stupid _stupid_, why would I even—” Roman threw up his hands. “…this is too messed up…why would…so stupid…dammit!”

He whirled and sunk his sword into the chest of a nearby dummy. Its tie tore in two and it fell to the ground.

“Dammit, dammit, _damn it!_”

Two slashes of a sword and Patton’s dummy lost a head and an arm. Another slash and Virgil watched as straw fell out of the third dummy, the purple shirt fluttering onto the stone.

Roman glared at the dummies as though they had personally offended him. Maybe they had. Or maybe the real people had.

Virgil clenched his fist around his hoodie. He didn’t want to see the furious look on Roman’s face.

Then it faded. Roman sagged, snapping his fingers. The three mutilated dummies rose up and healed themselves, stitches covering the wounds.

“What am I doing?” he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. “What am I…”

He tossed his sword across the hall and it landed in the chest of the biggest dummy there. This one had a red scarf wrapped around its chest and a yellow crown painted on its face.

The sword wobbled but stuck there.

Roman waved a hand at the dummy and it crumbled to dust around the sword, until it was just a pile of ash with a red scarf on top.

“See?” Roman told himself. “Don’t take it out on them. They didn’t do anything. You did. You messed up, and now they hate you because it was your fault. That’s just how it is. Stop sulking.”

“_What?_” Virgil yelled.

Then he clapped his hand over his mouth.

It was too late. Roman whirled, his sword flying back to his hand. When he saw it was Virgil, he simultaneously relaxed and tensed.

“Virgil.” He looked behind Virgil. “Patton. Logan. What are you doing here? How much did you see?”

Virgil stepped forward. “Enough to know we need to talk.”

Roman scoffed, but it lacked his usual bravado. After a few seconds, he sighed and sat on the ground, kicking out his legs. Virgil walked over and sat next to him. Roman winced but didn’t move away. Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil saw Logan and Patton do the same a few feet away. Giving them space.

“So what do we need to talk about, Boulevard of Broken Seams?” Roman chuckled hollowly at his own joke. “That wasn’t funny. Sorry.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “They’re never funny, Princey.”

“Ouch. You wound me, good sir. How can our friendship survive such betrayal?”

Virgil stared at his knees. “Yeah. I’ve been wondering that too.”

Roman’s smile fell off his face. “Oh?” he asked quietly.

“I mean, I know you probably hate me after what I did,” Virgil began. “It was mean of me to manipulate you and I’m sorry, and it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me anymore because I can just leave you alone and—”

“Virgil!” Logan said. “Take a breath.”

Virgil closed his eyes and took a breath. Then another. He could smell the thunderstorm, thick and zesty.

“So, I’m sorry. For everything.” Virgil kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t stand to look at Roman. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”

“I’m sorry too,” added another voice. A voice that was normally cool and collected, but was quieter than Virgil had ever heard. Logan was staring at his lap, hands twisted together. “I lashed out at you. That was my fault and it wasn’t very professional of me. Colleagues…_friends_…should do better.”

“I’m sorry three!” Patton added. “I don’t think I really did anything wrong—”

“You didn’t,” Virgil said. “You were perfect—”

“—but just in case you’re mad at me I’m sorry, kiddo!”

Roman looked at all of them. His mouth was open slightly and his eyes sparkled. Wait—was Princey about to cry?

“You guys. You guys.” Roman laughed, wiping his face. “I’m not mad at you!”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course not! How could I be?” Roman ruffled Virgil’s hair. “You fricking saved me, guys. You’re the best.”

Patton beamed. Logan smiled softly. Virgil let himself relax slightly, pulling his hands out of his hoodie.

“You mean that?” Virgil asked quietly.

Roman nodded.

Before he could stop himself, Virgil launched forward and hugged Roman, squeezing the prince around the chest.

Roman laughed in surprise before hugging Virgil back, cupping the back of his head.

It was a few seconds before Virgil got uncomfortable and pulled away. Roman’s face was glowing with affection and pride. It made Virgil warm all over.

“So…” And Roman’s confidence slipped. “You don’t hate me?”

“What?” Virgil asked. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because…I hurt you?” Roman scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, I was a real jerk. Not princely at all. I brought up everything you hate and I treated you like a villain! I’ve tried so hard to be better lately, and all it takes is a little push before I become just like I used to be. I wouldn’t hold it against you if…” Roman bit his lip and looked down. “…if you didn’t want me around anymore. I get it. I—” He seemed to sink even lower. “I wouldn’t like me either.”

Virgil glanced behind him and saw the scarf on the pile of ash, glowing red in a flash of lightning.

His stomach twisted.

“Roman, _no._” Virgil couldn’t even find the words to express his worry, his anger, his love. “I was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t you, it wasn’t—”

“It _was!_” Roman stood up suddenly, turning away. “It was a part of me, Virgil. It wasn’t Deceit in disguise, it was me. I hurt you. I made you cry. I made you feel like you weren’t loved, weren’t supported, like I didn’t care. That was _me_.”

Virgil stood up and reached for Roman, unable to stop himself.

“Falsehood.”

Logan stood up, looking between the two. “Falsehood,” he repeated.

“Not a falsehood, Logan.” Roman chuckled brokenly. “Sorry.”

“Well, then. It’s not a falsehood.” Logan stared Roman down. “You should be held accountable for your actions under Deceit’s influence, is that what you’re saying? If so,” Logan paused. “So should I.”

“What?” Roman shook his head. “Logan, it’s different, you weren’t like I was—”

“Really.” Logan walked over to his own dummy, which had a plain blue tie. He stood three feet away, staring it down. “By your logic, I personally shoved away everyone I cared about. I did not interfere when Virgil had a panic attack. I ignored my favorite food and shunned Patton, who is one of the most important people in my life. All because I couldn’t stand the thought of feelings.” Logan reached into the air beside him and pulled out a dagger. “If you’re to blame, so am I.”

He threw the dagger at the dummy. It stabbed through the tie and sent straw flying through the air.

Roman made a sound like he’d been sucker-punched.

“Me too.” Patton pressed his lips together, a fire in his eyes. “I didn’t help my kiddos. I let terrible things happen and I ignored the problems because I was too blind to see them. I…I wasn’t there for Virgil. I wasn’t there for anyone, which is funny ‘cause my problem was not being there when you needed me. It kind of backfired, didn’t it?” Patton laughed weakly. “Anyway, Roman, it’s not your fault. If it is—”

He slashed his hand through the air, and his dummy separated down the middle, a clean sword slice sending both halves to the ground.

Logan sent a concerned glance at Patton, who shrugged.

Virgil looked at the final dummy, wearing that plaid shirt, and he felt determination well up inside of him.

“Deceit manipulates people,” Virgil said. “That’s what he does. It’s what he’s good at. He brings out the worst in people. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

Roman looked around. “But—”

“Fine. Let’s play it your way, then.” Virgil clicked his fingers together and pulled a fireball from midair. It warmed his fingers, especially as the temperature dipped and a few droplets splashed to the stone.

“I spent the first twenty-five years of my life convinced I was nothing but the bad guy.” Virgil glared at the dummy. “I let Deceit turn me into some hulking supervillain who spent all his time hurting Thomas. I showed up and I hurt you guys, just because I was scared of everything, just because I thought being mean and scary was the only way to be listened to. That was what Deceit told me. He told me—he told me a lot of things.”

Virgil stared at the fire in his hand. “He brings out the worst in people. Like I said. And I was not a good person to begin with.”

He heaved the fireball and watched it land on the dummy’s shoulder, smoldering.

“I didn’t let myself get close to anyone.”

Another fireball tossed. Catching fire on the side.

“I tried to hurt Thomas instead of helping him.”

A third fireball flew through the air. It set fire to the dummy’s head.

“I pushed people away. I was scared of my own shadow. I didn’t believe anyone could ever care about me because I was useless—” Fireball. “Stupid.” Fireball. “Evil.” Fireball. “A paranoid defeatist who was only capable of hurting people.”

Fireball.

The whole dummy was on fire now. A few drops tried to douse it, but the smoke and fire still curled into the air. The heat seared Virgil’s face. The glowing orange sent flickering shadows over the hall.

Everyone was silent.

“But here’s the thing.” Virgil straightened. “I made so many mistakes. But you know what I did? I grew. I learned to be better and I got Deceit’s voice out of my mind. I made friends with you guys. And you’re…the best things in my life. I could easily blame myself for everything. Heck, I still do, sometimes. But on good days like today, I know it wasn’t my fault. It was his fault.” 

Virgil turned and looked Roman straight in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter what mistakes you made. It doesn’t matter if you could have done better or you shouldn’t have trusted someone. That’s in the past. What matters is…whether you learn from your mistakes.” Virgil smiled. “I think you will. I think you already have. I think you’re already trying to fix it. Just like we all are.”

Logan’s eyes burned with pride. Patton clasped his hands together.

Roman’s face was unreadable. Emotions fought for prominence in his eyes. Fear, doubt, regret, compassion. Hope.

And then Roman rushed forward and caught Virgil in a hug. He buried his face in Virgil’s shoulder and hugged him hard.

Virgil choked with surprise, but after a few seconds, he hugged back.

Then he felt more arms around him. He peeked out from Roman’s shoulder and saw Logan and Patton hugging Roman as well. He sent them a smile and received two in return.

The clouds finally broke and sheets of rain poured down. Virgil’s hair stuck to his face. His hoodie was soaked through. The burning dummy was doused quickly, leaving a smoldering piled of straw. The cool rain drummed gently on Virgil’s skin like a reassuring melody. _It’s going to be okay._

Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil. Hugging together in a ruined castle, lightning flashing overhead.

There would be a rainbow soon, when the storm cleared. Maybe they could go on a picnic with Roman. Exploring always cheered him up, and Patton already had the sandwiches, though they might be soggy at this point.

For now, the thunder still rumbled and the lightning still flashed.

But Virgil had the others, and they had him. They were hugging and not letting go.

The storm could take as long as it needed.

It couldn’t hurt them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I did it. I finished my first multi-chapter fic. We've hit the end of the road. And I want to say: thank you.
> 
> I honestly can't believe how lovely the reaction was. You guys are the sweetest. It was a pleasure to read your comments and feel your support as I navigated this. It's been a tough few months for me, but this story was one of the few constants. It kept me going. If you loved this story at least half as much as I loved writing it, I'll be ecstatic.
> 
> As it is, I'm signing off. Thanks for coming with me on this wild, wacky, and wonderful journey. You're the best kiddos I could ask for.
> 
> P.S. What's next? Well, I might write a oneshot or two for the next few weeks. After that? I won't spoil anything, but you may be getting some of my favorite sunglasses boi. Hope you stick around, and I'll see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, kiddos! Yeah, I'm starting _another_ fanfiction while I'm in the middle of two already. What's my excuse for this blatantly terrible planning? Well, I wanted to do a shorter fanfic too, and have more variety, and three's a nice round number, and...eh, I just wanted to write some Virgil angst. Don't judge me. Just read my stuff.
> 
> These characters are owned by Thomas Sanders, and I got some of the ideas for the concept from an animatic. I watch animatics religiously, and this one is one of my favorites. I linked it above in the inspiration section, but I'm linking it again: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYAnk1xM6_o . It's a Friends on the Other Side animatic with some Dark Side concepts and I absolutely love it, oh my god, watch it if you haven't already.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kiddos! Have an awesome day.


End file.
